


It Felt Like Home

by cantfuckinbelievethis



Series: It Felt Like Home verse [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-6x01, but still may have a happy ending?, but theres some milkovich bonding so hopefully that is pleasing to everyone, dont read if you dont want to be upset, ghost!mickey, lots and lots of angst, mentions of old memories, not a getting back together fic, not sure if it will count as a happy ending, pretty much canon compliant only mickey's there, s6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantfuckinbelievethis/pseuds/cantfuckinbelievethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mickey dies in prison, the last place he expects to wake up is in the Gallagher house. </p><p>(Pretty much Mickey is there throughout s6 as a ghost).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ep 2

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is probably going to be an upsetting story to read, I wouldn't read it if you don't want to hear about what happens in s6. I started this and wrote each chapter as each ep came out (I'm only up to ep 7 now and I'm unsure whether I will finish or I will move away from canon after ep 6 i don't know yet). S6 actually started making me depressed to watch??? So there's definitely a chance I won't watch the rest of it and just switch into what I want to happen cos I think Mickey deserved better than what he got.

**Ep 2.**  
  
The last memory Mickey Milkovich remembered as he died was the look on Ian Gallagher’s face when he broke up with him. That was the last time Ian didn’t seem like someone else. Mickey knew he was going to die, and so refused to remember the look on Ian’s face when he said that he’d wait. Mickey thought the lie would give him something to hold onto, but as soon as Ian walked away he knew it wouldn’t.  
  
    Still, as he had laid there in his bunk trying to sleep, he thought that he wasn’t going to let the assholes that were the Gallaghers ruin his life. Sure, he was stuck in jail for a long ass time, but when he got out, he’d get Svet, the kid, and fuck off to see Mandy or some shit. His life would continue without Ian Gallagher and he’d fuckin’ live.  
  
    Of course, though, because it was him, this wasn’t exactly how it went. About a week later, a huge fight broke out between some inmates, and Mickey got knocked out of the way and smacked his head open on the concrete. Since the fight was so huge and no one could barely see anyone else, it allowed for the time for Mickey to bleed out. Luckily, he was only conscious for a few seconds after hitting the ground.  
  
    For those few moments, he wondered to himself how long it would take to get back to anyone that he’d died. No one knew where Mandy was, Iggy was in the fucking wind, and Svet only visited every few months. He would be dead a long while before anyone knew it. And, for some reason, he was able to quickly make his peace with that. He had always known he was fucked for life, and now at least he knew he was right. At least the shit show was finally over.  
  
* * *  
  
As soon as he woke up, Mickey was pissed. The sound of a ringtone had woken him up, making him jolt up off the floor. Taking a look around, he immediately could tell he was in Ian’s room at the Gallagher house. For a second, he was sure that it had all been a dream and that he was back with Ian. All it took was one look up at Carl sitting on the top bunk with his computer to know what had happened because the kid had fuckin’ _cornrows_.  
  
    ‘I can’t fuckin’ believe _this_ ,’ he snarled. ‘I fuckin’ die and still end up in this shit hole; what the fuck?’  
  
    ‘Hey, buddy, time to get up,’ Carl said to a random kid in the bunk beneath him. ‘Gotta do our rounds before school.’  
  
    It occurred to Mickey that Carl couldn’t hear him so he just allowed himself to say whatever the fuck was on his mind, no matter how bitter it was. ‘Stupid piece of shit, still doing this shit.’  
  
    ‘Huh?’ he heard a familiar voice grunt from behind him and he glanced behind him to see Ian fuckin’ Gallagher himself sitting up with a grumpy look on his face. Mickey had the strange urge to kick the son of a bitch, sitting there in his own bed, all nice and warm with no worries of being jumped in the middle of the night.  
  
    ‘Not you,’ Carl said before leaving with his new friend.  
  
    Mickey glanced back up at Ian for a moment before flopping back down on the floor, deciding to rest for a little while longer while it sunk in exactly what was going on here. He was dead and had somehow managed to secure an afterlife in the Gallaghers’ house. Like he hadn’t been fucked over enough in life, the powers that be decided to shove the knife in a _little_ more by having him chilling in his ex-boyfriend’s house for all eternity.  
  
    Before he could really process it all, Fiona came in cautiously and stepped fucking _through_ Mickey to get to Ian’s pills, which he now noticed were sitting on the bedside table. She rolled them around in her hands for a moment before Ian shot up and grabbed them.  
  
    ‘Get outta my shit,’ he said tiredly. His voice sounded strangely odd to Mickey’s ears, like he couldn’t recognise his voice at all. Like he was someone else. ‘I’m taking them.’  
  
    Mickey’s entire body froze at that and his eyes shifted from the pill bottles to Ian’s face, who was now curling up in bed again. He felt his blood run cold as he came to the realisation that Ian was _taking his pills_. Ian was _taking his pills_. He was taking his _fucking_ pills, when he would never take them for Mickey. He couldn’t help but feel bitter.  
  
    ‘Apparently all it takes is some nagging from a bitch who pretty much abandoned you all before,’ he barked at Ian, knowing he wouldn’t respond or even hear him.  
  
    He flopped back down on the floor, huffing and getting comfortable as he listened to their bitching and moaning about Little Red being pregnant or some shit. He didn’t really care. It vaguely registered to him that Fiona mentioned that Ian still worked with her, but once again, he could give less of a shit. He thought he’d finally been free of these fucking Gallaghers, but apparently even in death he wasn’t given that.  
  
    As Ian continued to sleep, Mickey couldn’t help but torture himself a little by wondering if Ian would care when he found out that Mickey’d died. He didn’t let himself hope or get too far into it and told himself harshly that Ian didn’t care about him anymore. Remembering the moment in prison with Ian, he pulled his shirt down a little and sighed in relief when he saw that the tattoo wasn’t there. He didn’t know what the fuck he’d been thinking with that, that was so out of character for him. He probably shouldn’t have taken the painkillers his cellmate had offered him before doing it; he would have actually gotten the spelling right. Not that it mattered much now. He thought to himself for a moment that it’s probably good he died in a prison brawl, instead of slowly dying from the infection in his chest.  
  
    Eventually, Ian got up when he heard Debbie rustling around in the cupboards. Mickey continued to lie on the floor for a second before sighing and following him. He figured if he was stuck here, he might as well spy on everyone. He hated himself for being surprised and hurt that he hadn’t been mentioned at all yet. He kept reminding himself that he _didn’t give a shit anymore_.  
  
    ‘You’re going to carry around a bag of flour all day?’ Ian questioned, holding the aforementioned flour in his hands.  
  
    Mickey, suddenly finding an odd attachment to the floor, took a seat on the floor next to Ian’s feet, watching as Debbie searched through old clothes.  
  
    ‘If that’s what it takes to prove to Fiona that I’m my own person, then yes,’ Debbie said.  
  
    ‘Good luck with that; she’s a total control freak lately,’ Ian responded.  
  
    ‘Tell me about it,’ Debbie sighed.  
  
    Mickey couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little at the teen angst spewing all over this fucking house. I mean, sure, he didn't like Fiona much either, but sometimes shit just had to be done. Now that he’d been to prison _and died there_ , a lot of this stuff just seemed trivial and easily fixed. He guessed you had to die to figure out how simple everything actually could be.  
  
    ‘Acting like she’s our mom,’ Ian added.  
  
    Mickey was confused by that. Fiona was better than Monica at least, and since when did any of them complain about it before when she was keeping the house afloat? She’d fucked up a lot recently and was pretty fucking selfish, sure, but from what Mickey could hear, she’s trying to get her life together again. What’s so wrong with that? Mickey wished that he’d had that chance.  
  
    ‘It’s my body, I can do what _I_ want!’  
  
    Mickey now knew that Debbie was knocked up, but he was also confused by that. He’d known Fiona would want the baby gone, but he’d been sure Debbie would too. Apparently not.  
  
    ‘I’m getting it from all sides. Here she’s jamming meds down my throat, and at work she’s ripping me a new one over some bullshit.’  
  
    ‘Well at least someone’s getting you to take your meds, you dumb fuck,’ Mickey barked. He seriously couldn’t help the anger that overtook him at every word out of everyone’s mouths. These assholes didn’t know how good they had it. At least they were _alive_.  
  
    Debbie pulled out some baby clothes, mentioning that her flour baby was called Desireé. Mickey almost laughed. What the fuck was she gonna call her actual kid? Debbie’s phone went off with a text and when she showed Ian, he peeked over his shoulder for a look. _Holy fucking shit._ Hashtags? Jesus Christ, Fiona was acting like a prick. Mickey took back every thought he had defending her. There was no defending any of them.  
  
    Ian scoffed. ‘Delete that shit.’  
  
    The only thing Mickey could agree with at this point.  
  
* * *  
  
When Ian got ready in a hurry for his job, that Mickey had a sneaking suspicion he was already half an hour late to, Mickey decided to follow him. Fuck it if he had a better idea of what to do. It was some kind of cruel irony that as soon as he decided to have a life despite Ian, he would die and be destined to follow the jackass around forever. Mickey watched from the floor as he got ready, swearing his ass off as he almost tripped over putting on his pants. He thought for a second that maybe if Ian hadn’t spent so much time bitching, he’d be ready by now. God, he felt like a fucking parent.  
  
    Mickey suddenly remembered that he _was_ a fucking parent. Yevgeny. He got up off the bed, walking around Ian, despite being able to walk through him, and went down the stairs. He figured that maybe Yev was still next door, and he would be able to go and see him. However, he made it about a few steps away from Kev and V’s porch before reality snapped around him and threw him back to where Ian was leaving the house.  
  
    ‘Son of a bitch!’ Mickey shouted, enraged. He wasn’t stuck to the house or this neighbourhood. He was stuck to fucking Ian.  
  
    For some reason, as he walked next to Ian, who smoked and ignored him, he attempted to trip him up, hoping that he would become corporeal or some shit and actually trip him over. Hell, maybe _he_ would crack his head open on the sidewalk and join him so Mickey could give him a piece of his mind before floating his ghosty ass away for good. Unfortunately, Ian continued to walk through him and towards his job — where he got to live and be free.  
  
    ‘You’re late, dude,’ this old guy informed Ian as he walked in. Mickey recognised him a little, but couldn’t really place him.  
  
    Mickey eyed the guy as he made his way out, taking note of his shiftiness. He stopped at the front counter, deciding not to follow Ian’s every step, and maybe try and get some ghostly powers going. Maybe if he was able to _do_ something, he could have some fun with this. Set someone’s fucking hair on fire or some shit.  
  
    He could hear Ian and Fiona’s conversation despite being across the crowded room, like he was tuned into them or something. He heard Fiona bitching about Ian being late and Ian ignoring her bitching. Then she started in on the whole Debbie shit, with Ian passive-agressively saying, ‘You can’t tell someone what to do with their body, Fiona.’  
  
    Mickey almost died again at the lack of subtlety, but continued to try and swipe some pie. He didn’t think he needed to eat as a ghost, but he wanted to do it anyway. It was one of his favourite past-times in life. Still, his hands went right through the tasty treat.  
  
    The day went by with Mickey trying and trying to get some powers going. He almost prayed, just wanting something to entertain himself with other than mocking everyone anytime anyone opened their mouths.  
  
    Finally, as Ian sat down with some douche to eat pie together, it happened. He lounged on the floor next to the booth and mocked the dude as he started talking about some asshole customers he had today, watching in disgust as he attempted to play footsie with Ian under the table. Ian didn’t encourage it, but he didn’t pull away either.  
  
    Fiona came in, starting to bitch again about how they weren’t working. Mickey slumped further down on the floor, already done with listening to Fiona and Ian have it out. Like, everyone gets it, tensions are running high, but shut the fuck up already.  
  
    They both strode away from the booth as Fiona said, ‘If you don’t like it, leave.’  
  
    ‘Fine!’ Ian snapped. ‘I will!’  
  
    They both started yelling like a couple of ten year olds and Ian stormed out of the diner. Mickey didn’t even bother to follow him, knowing he would just get snapped back to Ian anyway. A few moments later, he was walking next to Ian with barely any idea of how it happened.  
  
    ‘Just a couple of grown ups, huh, Gallagher?’ he scoffed.  
  
    To his surprise, Ian stopped dead in his tracks. After a moment, he shook his head and kept walking. Mickey knew he had heard him. Finally, some fucking power! He followed Ian, shouting at him and trying anything to see if he’d hear him again. When they reached the Gallagher house, he gave up, totally at a loss at how the hell to do it again.  
  
    That night, Mickey lay on the floor next to Ian’s bed, staring at the ceiling and being forced to listen to Fiona and her creepy old boyfriend fuck. He found himself pondering at Ian’s new life. He got up, he took his pills, he went to work at his dead-end job (well, not anymore), took his pills again, and went to bed. He allowed a small fraction of sympathy fill him for Gallagher, but then reminded himself that Ian still had the chance to turn it all around. Mickey, however, did not. He could only watch while Ian got that chance and did nothing about it.


	2. Ep 3

**Ep 3**

 Mickey soon discovered that ghosts didn’t sleep. Who knew? Even though he couldn’t and didn’t need to sleep, he found that this left him feeling grumpier than ever. He sat on the floor against the kitchen island, watching as Ian searched through the drawers. His eyebrows furrowed as Ian took forever to look for whatever it is he was looking for. Turns out when you’re following around one guy and just watching him live his life, it is boring as fuck.   
  
    Carl was wandering around with some pep in his step, seeming so proud to have bought his family some food with his own money. Mickey smiled a little at that, kinda happy for the kid. He wouldn’t have minded following him around, actually, at least he seemed to be busy. Ian was still looking in the drawer, even as Fiona came down.   
  
    When asked where he was getting the money from, he said, ‘No, no drugs. I learned my lesson.’   
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows rose. If this kid was getting money, it was either from drugs or something equally as bad. He felt a little sense of anticipation for when it all blew up in their faces, like it always seemed to. Get some drama up in here rather than the bitchy fighting between the siblings.   
  
    As if on cue with his thoughts, Ian said, ‘Better watch out. If she doesn’t like what you’re doing, she might try to fire you from the family.’   
  
    After a few more seconds of bitching from other family members and the quick visit from Fiona’s, quite frankly creepy, boyfriend, Ian left to his new job with two hands flipping Fiona off. Mickey sighed, getting up from the floor and following him. Lip had called in a few favours and gotten Ian a new job at his college, apparently. When he had called Ian up about it, sounding all fucking proud of himself, Mickey wanted to punch the asshole. Just the thought of him sitting up there in his Ivory Tower calling in jobs for the poor lowlives he called his family.   
  
* * *   
  
Ian sat on his phone on the el, completely ignoring Mickey like he expected, but he couldn’t help but be annoyed about. He wished that someone, anyone, could see him and talk to him. It didn’t have to be Ian, shit, it didn’t have to be anyone he knew. He just wanted someone to know he was fucking _there_ already. Where was a ghost whisperer when you needed one?   
  
    He eyed Ian’s phone, wishing he could rip it from his grip, and use it to try and figure out where Mandy was. It had been a day and he was sick of it already. He just wished he knew how to go into the afterlife already. For a moment of horror, he thought that maybe this was it. He shook his head, following Ian off the el. This couldn’t be all there was.   
  
    Ian seemed excited to see his brother and hang out with him, which bothered Mickey a little. He didn’t seem to get anymore friends since Mandy. He didn’t even hang around Svet anymore. Who was Ian spending time with besides himself? Was he isolating himself? Were his meds not really working? Once again, Mickey shook his head and reminded himself that this wasn’t his problem anymore. He couldn’t do jack shit about it anyway.   
  
    Lip and Ian hugged and Mickey walked around them, eyeing the painted naked chick on Lip’s wall before rolling his eyes. ‘Fuckin’ over-compensating.’   
  
    Lip and Ian waxed poetic about Lip’s room for a second before Ian noticed the art, too, and said, ‘Titty art. Trying to make sure everyone knows you’re straight?’   
  
    Mickey’s head snapped to look at him, wondering if maybe Ian had heard him that time too or if it had been some kind of coincidence. Ian didn’t seem confused, just smiled as they continued talking.   
  
    ‘Plenty dude-on-dude action around here, you’ll do fine,’ Lip commented, smacking his arm as he went into his—whoa, was that a fuckin’ mini-fridge?   
  
    ‘Sweet,’ Ian breathed, dropping his bag and Mickey dropped to the floor with it, trying not to feel like shit.   
  
    ‘It’s like I never fuckin’ existed at all,’ he snapped, ‘Like fuck who you want, Gallagher, I could give less of a shit, but why is everyone acting like I didn’t exist? Is this like with everyone else who’s been run out of town by you fucks? Never to be seen or mentioned again?’   
  
    Mickey cringed at the awkwardness of their conversation and atmosphere before Ian left. He hadn’t been around as much when they had been tight, but it was still weird to him to see them be this uncomfortable. He tapped his foot against the floor and waited as Ian left to be snapped to him. Sometimes he liked to see how long he could stay there.   
  
    ‘You’re a fuckin’ asshole,’ he commented to Lip casually, watching as he continued to study before he was snapped back to Ian.   
  
    He was wandering into the drabbest, shittiest part of the whole college to get to his job. Mickey found it fitting and like some sort of shitty symbolism that Lip was up in his wonder-world of learning and fun, while Ian was down in the dumps and ending up cleaning up other peoples’ shit. This is always how it ended up, and no one quite seemed to know how to stop it. Ian got fucked over a lot, too.   
  
    He got his work uniform, with the name “Dav” on it. This was all that it boiled down to. These three letters on embroidered on his uniform and a mop in his hand. He was just another name tag and number. Mickey was shocked to find himself feeling bad for the shithead. The kid had had so much potential, but nothing ever seemed to work out for him. In the past day and a half, usually his reaction to Ian getting fucked over or whining was without sympathy. Something about this, though. This wasn’t right.   
  
    Mickey did feel a sort of justice as he watched Ian, bored out of his mind, though. Now he knew how it felt to just follow after other people and watch them make a mess. Still, Mickey didn’t think he would subject anyone to the hell he was in now.   
  
    Soon enough, they reached an office. Ian opened the door to reveal Lip and some old professor. They welcomed him in and Lip told him that was the professor that helped him get the job. Ian, ever the fuckin’ boy scout, held his hand out and thanked him.   
  
    ‘You look young, Ian, still in high school?’ The professor asked. Was he even fuckin’ eighteen yet?   
  
    ‘I dropped out,’ Ian said, kind of seeming a bit embarrassed. ‘Joined the army.’ Mickey bit his lip as he explained how he used Lip’s name to join. He always hated that story.   
  
    ‘He as smart as you?’ the professor asked Lip, which kind of seemed like a shitty question to ask in front of the said person.   
  
    ‘Yeah, he is,’ Mickey blurted as Ian said, ‘Lip is the genius of the family.’   
  
    Mickey almost slammed his palm into his face, sick of hearing that shit from everyone, even in the fucking afterlife.   
  
    ‘So that gives you an excuse for not finishing,’ the professor said, making Mickey scowl as Ian’s smile faded. ‘You seem plenty smart, and “Dav’s” uniform doesn’t really suit you.’   
  
    Mickey wanted to punch this privileged piece of shit in the face. As Lip guided Ian out of the office, Mickey let his temper burst and shoved some papers off the dickhead’s desk. He froze as the professor looked confused. He had _pushed the papers off the desk_. With his bare fucking hands. Before he could even begin to process it, he was snapped back to Ian and Lip.   
  
    ‘So your professor’s kind of a dick, huh?’ Ian commented. He acted as if he was joking, but Mickey was sure Lip could tell he wasn’t.   
  
    Lip snorted. ‘He’s fucking harmless. Actually reminds me of Frank, only he’s, uh…’   
  
    ‘Privileged?’ Ian suggested.   
  
    ‘I was gonna say employed,’ Lip responded.   
  
    Mickey sighed, getting bored of the conversation already. When would something fucking interesting happen around here? Lip’s friend came up to them and started jabbering on about some shit that Mickey had no idea about. Apparently Ian didn’t either, but Lip just shook it off as “complicated” and  “a long story”. Mickey wanted to knock the motherfucker out because, even though he couldn’t see him and didn’t know Mickey was there, it felt like he was also talking to him. He decided not to try it out to see if he could actually do it and just sighed again, following Ian to the next boring place.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey followed Ian into the dorm halls; the redhead already starting to enjoy his first college party. Mickey eyed the cups of alcohol all over the place, just knowing no one was gonna remind Ian he wasn’t supposed to drink on his meds. He stood next to Ian as he reached Lip, crossing his arms. They both spotted the two dudes making out in the middle of the hall at the same time. Mickey felt a little freaked out by it, only because making out in public always seemed like a death wish to him, even when he came out.   
  
    Ian only turned to Lip and said, ‘I think I like college!’   
  
    Soon enough they started playing some drinking games, as Mickey sat in the corner of the hall watching them. He was pissed he couldn’t get a drink and just fucking get wasted. He wondered for a moment whether if he could drink, he’d even get drunk. A few hours later, Lip and Ian joined Mickey on the ground. Mickey was surprised when they sat right next to him, as if they knew he was there. Ian stared off into space and Mickey bit his lip as he glanced at his wasted expression.   
  
    ‘Shit, I’m wasted,’ Ian pretty much confirmed in a drawl.   
  
    Mickey glared at Lip as he said, ‘It’s medical-grade weed, plus piss-grade beer.’   
  
    ‘And his fuckin’ meds,’ Mickey didn’t even fight the urge to point out, even though no one could hear him.   
  
    Ian suggested crashing in Lip’s dorm for a while and Mickey almost groaned in annoyance. He really didn’t want to hang around doucheface longer than need be.   
  
    Then Ian said, ‘You know, I hate it at home. Fiona and Debbie are always fighting, ‘nd she treats me like I’m five,’ and Mickey’s heart hurt a little.   
  
    He’d never liked home either when he was a kid, for obvious reasons. Somehow, though, it made him feel better about Ian’s childhood to see the Gallagher household always fuckin’ smiling and noisy. He thought there was hope for Ian as long as he had his family. For a while, he’d thought he was his family and his place was Ian’s home, but it turns out Ian hadn’t liked it there, either. He bit his lip, realising that he didn’t have a home anymore, either. Now he was just floating around, never being alone, never with any choices of his own. He and Ian had something in common again: they were both adrift.   
  
    Then Lip went and started to be a fuck-head, saying that he’d “earned his space”. Mickey wanted to punch him again after seeing the look on Ian’s face. It seemed that no matter how much he tried, Mickey couldn’t let go of the protective feeling he had for Ian, even if he’d fucked him over. However, he decided to control himself again.   
  
    Ian crashed at Lip’s anyway and Mickey was forced to lie on the floor again, listening to the Gallagher brothers breathe as they slept. He prayed a little, unable to think of anything else to get him out.   
  
    ‘I can’t fuckin’ believe this,’ he said to himself, ‘I get dumped, I fuckin’ go to prison, get screwed over and dumped somehow even further, then I die, and now I’m stuck here with two Gallagher brothers who always _swore_ they didn’t snore. Well, guess what, fuckers? You’re loud as shit!’ Without thinking about it, he bashed his hand on the side of the bed. It made contact and the bed shuttered a little, making them shuffle a bit to get comfortable again before continuing to sleep. He huffed, annoyed that the moment he actually _did_ something, it had no effect.   
  
* * *   
  
The next morning started off with Mickey watching Ian cleaning the hallway. He took his regular seat on the floor, avoiding the puke and other disturbingly unidentifiable fluids. Ian was scrubbing the floor next to him and Mickey was telling him a story about prison the redhead couldn’t hear when Lip walked up, offering his help, which Ian rejected.   
  
    ‘I said I got it,’ Ian said as Lip ignored him and grabbed the mop.   
  
    Lip again ignored him and started to clean again, but Ian intercepted him and took the mop. Mickey let his head fall back against the wall, making a quiet thump. He wondered for a moment if he was the only one who could hear that as the brothers began to argue.   
  
    When Ian made a crack about, ‘Some of us have to work for a living,’ Mickey sighed, knowing the shit was about to hit the fan again, and it was getting less and less entertaining to watch Ian fight with everyone.   
  
    ‘Yeah, nah, I work,’ Lip argued and Mickey scoffed.   
  
    He did chuckle a bit when Ian childishly flicked the mop at Lip’s feet.   
  
    Lip snapped, ‘What’s your problem?’   
  
    Ian took a deep breath before turning to his brother and saying quietly, ‘This is it for me, Lip. This job — this is where I land. So you wanna come to me, and talk about how hard your fuckin’ job is as a teacher’s assistant—’   
  
    ‘I never said that—’   
  
    Ian continued on over Lip’s interruption, ‘While I clean up your goddamn puke.’    
    They stared at each other for a moment before Lip said, ‘Look, if you want a better job…you can go back to high school.’ Ian shook his head. ‘Alright? Nobody made you drop out.’   
  
    Mickey wanted to smack someone because apparently no one could say anything right, and no one was going to say something to stop the fight from happening. Instead of bothering to keep up with the fight, he just attempted to nudge an empty cup with his foot.   
  
    ‘Fuck you,’ Ian said in a voice that made Mickey look up.   
  
    ‘Fuck you!’ Lip shot back, ‘Alright? I got you this job, man, and now you don’t want it?’   
  
    Ian slammed the mop onto the wall next to Mickey and Mickey watched the dirty water mix in with the puke. ‘You won’t share your room because you think you’ve “ _earned your space_ ”, and then you sit around and laugh at me with your fucking shitty, bitch college friends, and say words like “prof” and “caf” like you’re too fucking busy to finish your goddamn words, and I’m the one with the problem?!’   
  
    Mickey had to admit that it pissed him off too. He watched as Ian shoved Lip and Lip shoved him back. They started a full-on fight in the middle of the hall and Mickey watched passively from the floor, having seen this a thousand times before. Finally, some friend of Lip’s pulled Ian off and Ian stormed off, flipping a table as he went. Mickey shoved his head into his hands, completely at a loss of how everything can get so fucked up. Somehow it was easier to handle when he was alive, but now it just seemed ridiculous and impossible.   
  
* * *   
  
On his way home, Ian stopped and stared at his reflection in a store window. Mickey stopped beside him, freaked the fuck out at his lack of reflection before his eyes drifted to where Ian was looking: at himself. Mickey stared, too, completely troubled at what he saw. He was worried about Ian. He couldn’t help himself. Sure, he’d treated Mickey like shit by the end, but Mickey could only look at his reflection and see the kid who just wanted to be a soldier. The kid who’d been best friends with his big brother. The kid who’d protected Mandy. The kid Mickey had fallen in love with. It drove Mickey crazy to know that he now looked at himself and clearly didn’t like what he saw.   
  
    Mickey followed him all day until he eventually reached a bridge, standing at the edge and staring into the water. Mickey swallowed, not knowing Ian’s intentions. He stared at Ian’s profile as he stared out at the water, jaw clenching and unclenching, and eyes shining with unshed tears. Mickey reached out to touch him, only for his hand to go right through him. He snapped his hand back and kept it at his side, not knowing what to do. A few moments later, however, a car crashed into another car, leaving both Ian and Mickey staring at the wreckage.   
  
    A man ran from the fire and Ian yelled out, ‘Hey!’   
  
    A fire sprung from the hood of one of the cars. Ian cursed before racing over to the car and Mickey watched from the distance as he saved the woman from inside the car, collapsing onto the pavement with her. Mickey slowly sat down next to their unconscious bodies, staring at them. He didn’t know what to do, if either of them were alive or had inhaled too much smoke. Soon enough the fire brigade showed and collected the woman off Ian.   
  
    A fireman crouched over Ian, saying, ‘Hey, hey, can you hear me? Can you tell me your name, sir?’   
  
    Ian slowly opened his eyes and they widened at the man in front of him. They brought the oxygen over to Ian and put the mask on him. Ian stared, wide-eyed, at the fireman holding the mask to his face. Mickey slowly took one look at Ian before turning to the fireman and then back to Ian.  
  
    Very carefully, he stood up, hands clenching into fists by his sides as he looked up at the sky and bellowed, ‘You’ve gotta be _fuckin’_ kidding me!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating this quickly cos I'm nervous about it. Like ripping off a bandaid.


	3. Ep 4

**Ep 4**   
  
Mickey couldn’t stand to be on his usual spot on the kitchen floor today and watched from the middle of the breakfast table as Ian started making cookies for the fucking fireman that saved him yesterday. He’d never seen Ian look so desperate for dick before. He’d chased after Mickey for years; where were _his_ fucking cookies? The family ate silently around him, and it still freaked him out a little to be sitting on the table in their food and have no reaction.  
  
    He watched miserably with his head in his palm as Ian counted eggs and Fiona spouted some shit about them being evicted on the phone to Patrick. He couldn’t stand it. Every day was worse than the last because he was stuck here, with them, listening to them whine about their goddamn problems, and he couldn’t even get up and leave. Fuck them, he hoped they lost the house.  
  
    ‘What about cinnamon?’ Ian asked, staring at his phone. Mickey wondered if maybe he could try and get his new ghost powers up and running to be able to stick some rat poison in the cookies.  
  
    Fiona made a face. ‘Why?’  
  
    ‘Making cookies. For the firehouse…I…think they deserve our support.’  
  
    ‘Smooth,’ Mickey commented and Ian twitched. It was hard to tell when Ian actually heard him or when he randomly twitched. He continued anyway, ‘Didn’t even tell your fuckin’ family about almost dying, Ian?’ He hopped off the table and made his way over to the other side of the kitchen island. ‘Guess keeping things to yourself is your M.O.’  
  
    He watched as Ian headed over to another house to get flour and sighed, not bothering to follow since he probably wouldn’t be far enough that he’d snap to him. He just took a seat on the floor again, deciding that was more comfortable than having everyone walk the fuck through him all the time.  
  
    ‘You know, we got into some shit at school, I think he’s pissed at me,’ Lip commented to Fiona and Mickey scoffed.  
  
    ‘Please, he’s been angry with me for weeks,’ Fiona said.  
  
    Fiona’s old boyfriend changed the subject back to the eviction, making Mickey’s eye twitch. They never really sat around and wondered why Ian was feeling and acting so shit. Mickey wondered for a moment if the meds were even working before sighing and lying down on the floor. He couldn’t worry about that; there was nothing he could do about it. Everyone walked out and left Ian cooking alone, muttering to himself about the cookies every so often. Mickey stared at him, just wondering how it all ended up like this.  
  
* * *  
  
Mickey followed Ian into the firehouse later that day, almost groaning in second-hand embarrassment as he carried the cookies in. The guy looked fucking ridiculous.  
  
    ‘A batch of cookies is what it takes to get laid nowadays, huh?’ he said loudly over the noise of the firehouse, even though no one could hear him. ‘Well, why didn’t I think to bring some too? Oh, yeah, no one can see me because I’m _fuckin’_ dead!’  
  
    He kind of wished that someone would get notified of his death already, but Svet had refused to give her number to the police for some fuckin’ reason. So she wouldn’t find out until she came to visit, which could be months from now. He hoped that when they all found out he was dead that maybe that would solidify his deadness and he could leave here already.  
  
    As Ian approached one of the firefighters, Mickey wondered where all of the female firefighters were. Shit, did they even hire women here? He pondered that shit as Ian started talking to the firefighter. He tuned back in when the fireman said, ‘—Flamers? Gay firemen? They’re all on one shift.’  
  
    His head snapped back to face them at that. What the _fuck_? As they continued talking, he began to rant over them, ‘How the fuck did a bunch of gay dudes end up in one shift? Are they all on one shift because you guys are all afraid they’ll try and grab your ass while you’re saving lives? How does everyone even know that those guys are gay? Are they just flashin’ their shit around the firehouse? This is fuckin’ ridiculous. What is this, a porno? What the _fuck_.’  
  
    Ian left soon after finding out when the next gay shift was and giving the fireman his _goddamn snickerdoodles_. Fuck this shit, Mickey couldn’t sit around watching him make _another batch_. Mickey could’ve smacked the fucking grin of Ian’s stupid fucking face as they strode out of the firehouse.  
  
* * *  
  
As it turns out, since Ian quit his job, he did fucking nothing all day. Mickey just lounged on the floor next to his bed as he read or checked his phone or tossed a ball up in the air. The repetitive sound of the ball falling into his hands drove Mickey crazy and at one point, when Ian was just about to catch it, Mickey smacked it away from him with all the concentration he could muster to make it work. Ian shrugged when it hit the floor, clearly thinking it had bounced off his fingertips or something. Mickey groaned in annoyance, flopping back down onto the floor once Ian had grabbed it and started again.  
  
    Since Ian did nothing but be an annoyance, Mickey was kind of relieved when Fiona called a family meeting. Lip and Debbie weren’t there, but apparently this was pretty much it of the family anyway. Fiona announced that the bank was auctioning off their house, but she had a half-baked plan to buy it back, and he snorted a little.  
  
    ‘Fat chance, douchebags,’ Mickey said, lying across the table in front of them, head under Ian’s face and his feet kicking up through Carl.  
  
    When Carl whipped out his roll of money, Mickey sat up and stared with everyone else. This fuckin’ kid…He laughed a little along with Fiona’s creepy boyfriend at the smug look on the little shit’s face. ‘Fuck.’  
  
    ‘No!’ Fiona cried out and Mickey rolled his eyes.  
  
    ‘What, you don’t believe me?’ Carl frowned.  
  
    ‘No, I believe you. I just don’t want the state seizing our house because we bought it with drug money, or whatever it is that you’re _into_ lately.’ Fiona shot a look at Carl’s friend, Nick, as if it was the dude’s fault.  
  
    Mickey scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again. There goes fuckin’ Fiona yet again blaming someone else for her already corrupted siblings. It wasn’t as if Carl was a fuckin’ angel.  
  
    ‘Let’s not be hasty,’ Frank’s cracked voice argued as he made his way in. Despite Fiona’s responding snap, he continued, ‘This was my house long before any of you had claim to it…not legally, but every other way. But the point is, we’re Gallaghers!’ Mickey slammed his head against the table, causing no effect. Why did they constantly say that as if it was something to be proud of? ‘If Carl wants to step up—’  
  
    ‘No,’ Fiona interrupted sternly.  
  
    ‘Why do you get the last word?’ Ian frowned.  
  
    ‘If you wanna go get a mortgage with _your_ name on it, then take Carl’s money. But, otherwise, we’ll find another way.’  
  
    ‘I’ll just spend it on my ride,’ Carl said irritatedly.  
  
    ‘Nah, man, spend it on a fuckin’ hairdresser to take those fuckin’ cornrows out!’ Mickey called out over Frank as Carl made his way upstairs with Nick. ‘Thank me later, man, you look ridiculous!’  
  
    Ian sighed and they all faced him again. ‘I don’t know why you bother calling a family meeting; you make all the decisions anyway.’ He got up from the table and went back upstairs.  
  
    A few hours later found Ian once again in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and grumbling to himself about Fiona. Carl and Nick had gone out so he was alone. Again. Mickey lied on the floor next to his bed, wondering when Ian would have some friends to bitch to. It was kind of depressing to see him lying alone and bitching to himself. Before he’d at least have Mandy, but she was gone. Mickey once again cursed whoever had stuck him with Ian Gallagher after he’d died because this was getting more depressing by the second.  
  
* * *  
  
Mickey, awake before everyone else since he didn’t go to sleep, was the first to see the car roll up and Chuckie step out. The knock on the door had Ian coming down the stairs to open it, joining Mickey by the front door. He excused himself and left Chuckie, Carl, Nick, and the social worker downstairs to get Fiona. The social worker explained the situation to her and Mickey finally, _finally_ burst out laughing. He had never laughed this hard since he had kicked the bucket, but this was too good. The Gallaghers were now stuck with Sammi’s fuckin’ weird ass kid with a Nazi symbol on his forehead and he had no sympathy for them.  
  
    Ian was stuck making the kid breakfast, a dead look on his face as he did so, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as he stared at him. Mickey stood next to him, staring down at the kid as he ate his weight in toast.  
  
    Once the kid was fed, Ian went and got ready to go to the firehouse. Mickey sat on Ian’s bed, grabbing at the bed frame and hoping he wouldn’t snap back to Ian if he held on tight enough. Ian was halfway down the street when Mickey snapped back to him, dragging his feet as he followed.  
  
    ‘I don’t want to see this anymore, Ian,’ he complained. ‘I’m so sick of you and your family and all of this bullshit and I just wanted to live in peace, but I couldn’t even die in peace. Fuck you and fuck all of it.’  
  
    He stood stock-still in the middle of the road, crossing his arms and watching Ian disappear from view as he rounded the corner. After a few moments, when he didn’t snap back, he wondered in amazement if maybe he was finally free. A second after that thought, though, he snapped back and saw Ian had just stopped to tie up his shoe-lace.  
  
    ‘Goddamn it,’ he grumbled, giving up and following Ian.  
  
    Ian stopped dead in his walk through the firehouse, watching as a weird montage began of all the gay firemen exercising and carrying stuff around. Mickey could almost hear the weirdly fitting music in his head as he also stared. Only he was confused.  
  
    ‘Gallagher, half of these guys are actually fuckin’ twos with alright bodies. Cut their heads off maybe…’ He scrunched up his face. ‘Also, those three over there look like they’re about fifty…I guess that’s kind of your thing, though. Geriatric viagroids.’  
  
    He glanced over at Ian, seeing the weird faces he was pulling as if he was about to cum in his jeans and shook his head in disgust. ‘I was right. Fuckin’ porno.’  
  
    Mickey walked ahead of Ian as he took his time eyeing off all the firemen. He found the guy who saved Ian and nodded to him in greeting. He looked through his stuff, spotting a little clean-cut, wholesome, all-American picture of the dude’s family.  
  
    ‘Married too, Gallagher,’ Mickey called back to Ian. ‘Shit, he’s just your type.’  
  
    Ian approached from behind Mickey and greeted the fireman, ‘Hey, I, uh, just wanted to—I’m Ian, you pretty much saved my life. Cookies?’ He held the plate up and Mickey wanted to shudder in embarrassment.  
  
    ‘Jesus, what happened to the Ian who could flirt his way out of a goddamn murder charge?’ Mickey questioned aloud, looking through the personal items of the fireman. ‘This is just pathetic.’  
  
    The fireman laughed awkwardly and Mickey, quite frankly, wanted to reassure the man that Ian wasn’t going to stalk him and cook his rabbit. He was kind of coming across weird and intense, especially with the lack of blinking going on. ‘Where was this?’ When Ian answered, the fireman clearly had an epiphany. ‘The redhead!’  
  
    Mickey frowned, unsure why the fireman saying that made him come across as kind of an idiot. He glanced at Ian, still seeing that dumb look on his face. They introduced themselves and shook hands.  
  
    The fireman offered him a smoothie before announcing to his group, ‘Hey, guys, this is Ian.’ He then listed off a bunch of other firemen, including a random Dalmatian in the corner.  
  
    ‘Shit, they really have dogs in the firehouse?’ Mickey cried out, heading over to the dog. He felt a little bit of his annoyance at the universe dissipate as he patted the dog, ignoring the fireman he was licking.  
  
    He vaguely heard Ian learn that the fireman was married before he shot up in attention again when another guy asked, ‘Hey, what’s the name again?’  
  
    ‘Ian,’ Ian answered, accepting the smoothie. ‘Thanks.’  
  
    ‘When Caleb’s not here, he’s in his, uh, sculpture studio,’ Jason, the fireman who saved Ian, told him.  
  
    Mickey eyed the Caleb dude as they continued to talk and, somehow, he just knew it. ‘This is my replacement, huh?’ He walked around him, eyeing him up and down. He leant in, hissing into Caleb’s ear, ‘Save yourself,’ before Caleb walked away. He could only pray that the message got through. This Caleb guy didn’t seem too bad, and he shouldn’t have to be wrapped up in Gallagher bullshit. Mickey had apparently tied himself to it and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.  
  
    A few seconds later, the alarm rang and the firemen dropped everything, heading into the truck. Ian stood there awkwardly staring after them with his smoothie. Mickey had to admit he, too, was impressed by the firemen’s hustle. He eyed Ian’s weird wave and shook his head.  
  
    ‘Shit, you really need to work on your chill, you desperate asshole.’  
  
* * *  
  
The rest of the day passed quickly and, next thing he knew, they were sitting at the auction for the Gallagher house. Mickey stared at the announcer in wonderment as he pretty much spoke gibberish to them all rapidly.  
  
    ‘How the fuck are you supposed to understand this?’  
  
    Ian shrugged and Mickey’s eyes widened for a moment at his nonchalant attitude to hearing him, when he realised it was just at something Lip had said. Finally, their house came up and everyone held their breaths. Mickey just slumped further in his chair and crossed his arms, feeling the tension around him. During the auction for their house, the Gallaghers tried every last thing at their disposal to get others to back off so they could buy the house. Still, all of their efforts were fruitless as the house ended up being given to a family in the back.  
  
    The Gallaghers all went silent and stared brokenly at the front of the room. Mickey slowly turned to look at them all, confused about how he should be feeling. He knew he should be feeling some kind of retribution, maybe. However, as he looked at Ian he knew what he was feeling. It wasn’t sympathy or concern or compassion. It was pity. He pitied them because they knew everything was fucked up royally and them, being _Gallaghers_ , would not be able to fix it. Almost everyone who would have helped them were gone, and they were pretty much alone. And alone, with nothing but their “we’re Gallaghers!” attitude, they were completely and utterly fucked.


	4. Ep 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that this one hurts, guys. I cried writing it. PS. I maintain that Ian is a gold star top so.

**Ep 5**   
  
‘It’s our crib!’ Carl argued and Mickey rolled his eyes from where he was seated on the floor by the kitchen island.   
  
    ‘Not anymore,’ Fiona responded.   
  
    ‘Who says?!’   
  
    ‘The state of Illinois,’ Ian answered tiredly, pouring some cereal.   
  
    ‘They can’t just take it from us.’   
  
    ‘I don’t have time to explain foreclosure law to you,’ Fiona said, putting some eggs down on the breakfast table for Liam.   
  
    ‘But those are the stairs where I broke my arm for the first time,’ Carl argued.   
  
    ‘Yeah, and the second,’ Ian said, patting Carl’s shoulder. ‘Uh, and the fifth.’   
  
    Mickey was amazed that the damn kid hadn’t been paralysed by now, to be completely fucking honest. He was always getting into shit one way or another that never ended well. He stood and moved over to the kitchen table, leaning against it.   
  
    ‘That table was where Liam was born,’ Carl said a little wistfully.   
  
    Mickey screwed up his face and shifted away from the table, moving down to the floor again. ‘ _What the fuck_ , and you kept it? You Gallaghers are fuckin’ disgusting.’   
  
    ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Fiona said before yelling at where Frank was pulling out the copper pipes in the toilet. ‘Can you keep it down in there?!’   
  
    Frank then went on some stupid fucking spiel about copper pipes, Rome, generals, and all that shit. Mickey quickly lost interest and inspected his fingernails, weirded out by how they hadn’t grown.   
  
    ‘Look, we don’t have the luxury to sit around and get weepy!’ Fiona announced, snapping Mickey out of his fingernail inspection. ‘We need a place to live.’   
  
    ‘Let’s see them get Nick and I out. We’ll take positions up at the upstairs windows with M16s. Throw Liam at the bottom of the stairs with some grenades.’ Carl turned to Liam. ‘You know how to pull a pin and throw it?’ Liam nodded back and Mickey frowned, wondering when he’d hear the kid say more than a few words. He was old enough to be jabbering on all the time. ‘Strap Chuckie up with some explosives and throw him off the roof.’   
  
    ‘Fuckin’ good plan if you ask me,’ Mickey chuckled to himself. This kid was an asswipe.   
  
    ‘This is all cos of the mud people!’ Chuck announced after Fiona had ranted a bit. He pointed at Nick stupidly.   
  
    ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ,’ Mickey said as Ian breathed, ‘What the fuck.’   
  
    ‘That’s what my friends in Juvie said,’ Chuckie said and Frank laughed.   
  
    ‘Someone is so going to kill that kid,’ Mickey huffed, watching him leave for school.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey lay on the shitty lawn and watched as the Gallaghers removed the stuff from inside their house piece by piece. He himself was kind of glad that they were moving out so he didn’t have to stay there anymore, but he did wonder where he and Ian would now be staying. If Mandy were still around, they could’ve stayed at the Milkovich house. Mickey kinda missed the shit hole if he was honest, especially since his dad was still in the can.   
  
    He didn’t bother following Ian in and out of the house and just lay on the lawn thinking about how different everything would have turned out had he never gone to prison. Had he never tried to get revenge on Sammi. Had Ian never gotten arrested. Had Ian never had bipolar. Had Mickey never come out. Had Ian never left for the army. Had they broken up earlier. Had they never gotten together in the first place. Had, had, had. What if, what if, what if. It didn’t really matter, he guessed, seeing as he was fucked for life anyway.   
  
    He had thought that being with Ian and coming out and finally being himself would solve everything. He could turn his shitty destiny around. Mickey laughed bitterly to himself. _What a fuckin’ joke._   
  
    Unfortunately, Mickey was still tuned into Ian and could hear his conversation with Lip upstairs from the lawn. He could hear Ian talking about banging one of the fireman, he could hear Lip’s stupid-ass comments, and he could hear Ian talking about the places he’d done it in. He mentioned the dugouts and Mickey frowned, breathing out shakily. The first time he’d even heard a reference toward himself or a memory involving himself. His name hadn’t been said once yet, though. Sometimes it made him question his whole existence before he died. Maybe he’d always been dead and his relationship with Ian was some messed up idea he’d concocted to get over how lonely he was. He wouldn’t put that level of crazy past himself. He took another shaky breath and shook his head.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey glanced around the park at all the firemen and their families running around. He wondered for the millionth time why the fuck Ian had been invited to this barbecue. With how stalker-like he came across, Mickey wouldn’t have invited him to anything.   
  
    ‘Hey, Red!’ Jason called out, waving him over. ‘Come on over.’   
  
    Mickey sighed, but followed Ian anyway. He was already exhausted.   
  
    ‘Help yourself,’ Jason said and Ian thanked him. Jason pointed out his kids and talked for his family for a minute before Caleb came over, looking Ian up and down. Mickey couldn’t restrain the huff he let out.   
  
    ‘Where you been?’ Caleb asked and Mickey frowned. Were they late?   
  
    ‘Oh, I got held up.’   
  
    ‘You ever pitch?’ Caleb asked and if Mickey was drinking something, he’d have done a spit-take.   
  
    ‘Jesus Christ, that’s forward,’ Mickey exclaimed before shaking his head.   
  
    Ian hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘Usually…but I’m open, depending on what you’re into.’   
  
    Mickey gave Ian an incredulous look. ‘Whatever happened to Mr. Fuckin’ Gold-Star Top?’   
  
    Caleb nodded and Ian looked at him with a weirdly tired flirtatious look. ‘Where we doin’ this?’   
  
    ‘Oh my fuckin’ God,’ Mickey groaned, really not wanting to see whatever was about to happen here. How quickly they forget and move on, huh?   
  
    Caleb jerked his head to the side and said, ‘Follow me.’   
  
    Mickey crossed his arms and refused to move. He turned his head to the sky and yelled, ‘I don’t fuckin’ care how hard you try, but I’m not going to watch them bang!’   
  
    A second later, he was snapped to Caleb and Ian, who were entering the baseball field. He frowned in confusion for a moment before snorting. Caleb had really been talking about baseball. He wondered how the dude didn’t catch Ian’s innuendo. Who said “depending on what you’re into” when talking about baseball?   
  
    ‘You cover second,’ Caleb ordered, handing him a team outfit.   
  
    ‘ _I was playin’ second_.’   
  
    Mickey bit his lip and sniffed as Ian laughed.   
  
    ‘What?’ Caleb frowned, looking confused. ‘You play, right?’   
  
    ‘Oh, sure, I play.’   
  
    Caleb nodded, smirking. ‘We’ll need all the help we can get. If we lose to the fags in blue, we’ll never hear the end of it.’   
  
    Ian and Mickey both frowned in confusion before asking in unison, ‘Who?’   
  
    Caleb nodded his head and looked across the field. ‘The gay cops.’   
  
    ‘The fuckin’ _gay cops_ are you _fucking kidding me?_ ’ Mickey snapped, turning to see fuckin’ _Tony_ of all people approaching them. Ian and he both gasped in surprise. ‘Tony?’   
  
    Tony and Ian hugged as Ian laughed. ‘When’d you come out?’   
  
    ‘Oh, your sister. Turned me gay,’ Tony commented and Mickey scrunched up his face.   
  
    ‘What?’   
  
    Ian’s eyes widened a little. ‘Oh, wow.’   
  
Mickey sat down on the ground next to Ian’s feet as they played. Caleb kept yelling, ‘Look alive!’ to a bunch of players who looked _fuckin’ alive already, shut the fuck up_. He was bored out of his mind and about to attempt to punch people in the face to see if it worked when Ian beat him to it, punching some cop who had argued with him. It turned into a full-on brawl and Mickey’s eyes widened.   
  
    ‘Okay, I might not be one to fuckin’ talk, but this is some crazy shit.’ He saw Ian and Caleb laugh with each other as they continued fighting. He cocked his head in confusion at Caleb’s fuckin’ heart-eyes. ‘Really, Northside? This dude going off at some random cop for nothin’ is what gets you going?’ He shook his head.   
  
  
Half an hour later, once everyone had stopped fighting, Mickey wandered around the barbecue area, wishing he was able to eat something. He managed to get a hold of a hotdog when no one was looking but it just fell through his face when he tried to eat it. Picking it up off the ground, he ditched it at a random firefighter in annoyance. He was glad his powers seemed to be getting stronger, but he was pissed that he couldn’t even have _one_ thing to enjoy himself.   
  
    He strolled over to where Ian was sitting with Caleb and Jason and heard Jason ask, ‘So, when are you gonna take the test?’   
  
    ‘Test?’ Ian smiled in confusion.   
  
    ‘To become a firefighter, man!’ Jason laughed, falling off the table drunkenly.   
  
    Mickey decided he didn’t much mind Jason. He seemed like a good guy and had just suggested something that could possibly be the greatest idea he had ever heard for Ian.   
  
    ‘You should,’ Caleb commented once Jason had been dragged off by his husband, nudging Ian.   
  
    Mickey wasn’t even watching them, he was watching Jason’s husband hug him and hold him up. They went and sat at a nearby table, Jason leaning into his husband.   
  
    He was snapped out of his trance when he heard Ian say the shittiest pick-up line ever, ‘I was hoping to get my hands on your hose.’   
  
    ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ.’ He put his head in his hands, completely frustrated with what was going down.   
  
    Caleb surprised him by saying, ‘Is that what this is to you? A fuck?’   
  
    ‘You say it like it’s a bad thing.’ Ian frowned and Mickey gaped at him as he slid his hand up Caleb’s thigh like some desperate twink. ‘C’mon, let’s get outta here.’   
  
    Caleb shoved his hand off him. ‘Nope. I knew you were younger than me, but I thought you were a grown-up.’   
  
    ‘Shit,’ Mickey drawled, watching as Caleb began to walk away. He was about to say something to Ian, when he stood up and followed Caleb.   
  
    ‘Okay, okay,’ Ian said, stopping Caleb, ‘Hey, I’m into you. Alright, I thought you were into me.’   
  
    ‘I am,’ Caleb admitted and Mickey could only watch from the bench, clenching his jaw and rubbing his lip.   
  
    ‘Then what’s the problem?’ Ian asked.   
  
    ‘I don’t stick my dick in just any guy,’ Caleb said and despite his chest ache, Mickey managed to register that this guy must be a top, then.   
  
    Ian frowned. ‘What do you want, then?’   
  
    ‘Seriously?’ Caleb raised his eyebrows for a moment. ‘Do I have to spell it out for you?’   
  
    ‘Yeah.’   
  
    ‘A date.’ And those two little words coming out of Caleb’s mouth were what made Mickey slump forward, palms against his eyes.   
  
    ‘A date; we didn’t even get a fuckin’ date,’ Mickey breathed shakily, wiping at his eyes.   
  
    ‘ _We’ve never actually been on a real date_.’   
  
    ‘With, like, flowers and chocolate and shit?’ Ian laughed.   
  
    ‘ _I’m serious. Like, like, a date where you sit down and you go to a nice restaurant and you put on a nice shirt and you eat with, like, utensils._ ’   
  
    ‘We can skip the flowers,’ Caleb said, amused.   
  
    ‘ _You wanna do that_?’   
  
    Ian thought for a moment before saying, ‘Okay…You’re on.’   
  
    ‘ _Yeah, why not_?’   
  
    ‘Alright, let’s get some fucking brews,’ Caleb said, wrapping his arm around Ian’s shoulders and leading him back over to where Mickey sat.   
  
    Mickey stood and ran. He couldn’t be around this shit, he really couldn’t. He ran and ran and made it about the length of the field before snapping back to Ian. Always fucking snapping back to Ian. He and Caleb were laughing about some shit.   
  
    Mickey grabbed at his hair with his hands and pulled in frustration before exploding, ‘Why the fuck did this have to happen to me?! I fuckin’ did everything I could, and it _still_ wasn’t enough. Why the fuck did _I_ have to die? Why did I have to be here?’ He turned to Ian and finally let it it all out, ‘Fuck you, fuck you, you piece of shit! I hate you; you did this to me. I can’t do this; I can’t follow you around forever, Ian! I don’t want to wait and wait for nothing. You wouldn’t stay with me; you wouldn’t wait for me — why the fuck am I forced to do it for you? Fuckin’ give my life to you, and that’s not enough. You want me to be tied to you in death too?!’ He then turned to the sky. ‘Let me go! Let me _the fuck_ go! I hate this. I can’t do it. What do I have to do to leave? Just let me die properly already.’ He dropped back to the floor, feeling overwhelmed by gravity.   
  
    He looked up to see Ian smiling at something Caleb had said. He had heard none of it. Mickey pressed his hands against his eyes and let out his sobs like he’d never done before. Ever since he was a kid, he’d learned to cry quietly. If you didn’t hide your tears, you were a fucking pussy. If you were heard, you were in the shit. But now he allowed himself to cry as loud as he wanted — to scream and shout and sob. Because now no one could hear him. Mickey Milkovich was completely alone. 


	5. Ep 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't remember, ep 6 is the episode with the date and 'victim of domestic abuse' discussion. Once again, this is not my own opinion on the matter, just how I think Mickey would've reacted. 
> 
> ALSO a tw for a brief flashback of some of the dialogue from the 5x10 dugouts scene.

**Ep 6**   
  
Mickey sat on the end of the bed across from Ian, who was leaning against the headboard. He eyed Ian’s CFD shirt. He didn’t even know how he felt. He just felt…numb. Dead. Pretty fitting seeing as he was dead, he supposed. He watched as Ian woke Lip up.   
  
    ‘What time is it?’ Lip asked groggily, sitting up on the floor.   
  
    ‘Like ten, so get up.’   
  
    Lip groaned, rubbing at his eyes before standing up and grabbing a cigarette. Ian moved to sit on the edge of the bed and hesitantly said, ‘I need to ask your advice.’   
  
    Even in this deadened mood of his, Mickey still found it in him to scrunch up his face at the idea of anyone thinking that asking Lip for advice was a good move.   
  
    ‘I’m going on a date,’ Ian continued and Mickey fell back off the bed, collapsing onto the floor.   
  
    He had figured out quickly that no matter what he did, he couldn’t feel any physical pain. So he made a habit of doing stupid things to express his frustration. It was so far the only thing he was getting enjoyment out of.   
  
    ‘Yeah, with the fireman?’ Lip asked around the cigarette between his lips.   
  
    ‘Yeah,’ Ian said. ‘You know, Mickey and I never went out on dates, Ned never took me out, Kash and I fucked in the back of a convenience store, and I don’t think jerking off strangers in a night club counts.’   
  
    Mickey smiled tightly, realising that the first time his name’s been spoken is in a list of Ian’s sex partners, including two fucking perverts who’d taken advantage of him. ‘Well, don’t I just feel fuckin’ special.’   
  
    ‘Well, how hard can it be?’ Lip frowned. ‘You eat, you drink, and you bang till your balls fall off, right?’   
  
    Ian paused for a moment before asking, ‘What about clothes?’   
  
    ‘I’d definitely wear some,’ Lip said, brilliantly helpful as always.   
  
    ‘Yeah, asshole, I mean, like, what kind? Like fancy?’ Ian responded, seeming at a loss.   
  
    Lip breathed out a lungful of smoke. ’Shit, I don’t know, man; I’ve never really been on a real date, either. Like, an official one.’   
  
    There was a knock at the door and Mickey relaxed back into the floor, completely ignoring Lip’s dramas as he thought. A while ago, while Ian had been in army jail, Mickey had been thinking to himself about the date they’d go on when Ian finally got out. He’d planned it surprisingly easy, having it revolving around most of the good memories they’d had. It wasn’t anything fancy or amazing, but it was something he’d thought Ian would appreciate. Just the chance to fuckin’ talk and realise just how far they’d actually come. How far Mickey had actually come. A few times in prison, Mickey had imagined they actually went on the date he planned, but it always ended in his head with Ian still breaking up with him. He could never see a happy ending; it just wasn’t in their relationship’s nature for them to get one.   
  
    Now he wasn’t even sure what he’d do if he magically came back to life in that moment, if he randomly popped back into existence right there in that room. Would he even want to get back together if Ian wanted to? He just didn’t know.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey knelt by the candlelit table, leaning on the table by his crossed arms and resting his head there as he watched Ian try and figure out the menu.   
  
    ‘I sure hope fire boy is paying for this shit,’ Mickey commented once he’d glanced at the prices himself. ‘Because you can’t fuckin’ afford it.’   
  
    ‘Usually I get a bunch of apps to share,’ Caleb said. ‘You good with that?’   
  
    Ian looked up with an oddly monotone look on his face. Mickey wasn’t sure exactly how to act on a date, but he was pretty sure that looking dead inside wasn’t it. Ian only hummed before looking back down at his menu.   
  
    Caleb looked confused and a bit amused before nodding slightly.   
  
    Finally, it clicked to Ian what he meant by “apps” and he said, ‘Appetisers! Sure, yeah, yeah, big fan of…apps.’   
  
    ‘ _Like you’re too fucking busy to finish your goddamn words_ ,’ Mickey murmured to himself before sighing deeply.   
  
    When the waiter arrived, Caleb ordered for himself and Ian, and Mickey frowned, wondering when exactly it was that Ian had said he wanted any of that shit.   
  
    ‘You seem like a very pensive kind of guy,’ Caleb began, ‘You an only child?’   
  
    Mickey snorted and looked up to see Ian respond, ‘Uh, no.’   
  
    ‘Brothers and sisters?’   
  
    ‘A bunch, yeah.’   
  
    ‘Older or younger?’   
  
    ‘Both.’ Ian blinked and Mickey tapped his fingers on the table, already frustrated with how this conversation was going.   
  
    ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ian, if I’m stuck here with you on this stupid fucking date, at least get the conversation moving,’ Mickey said, ‘You’ve never been this quiet before, always chatting on about something when we hung out. What’s wrong with you?’   
  
    ‘What about your parents, both still alive?’   
  
    Ian looked confused, as if the entire concept of a conversation was lost on him, before saying, ‘Yeah.’   
  
    Caleb made a face. ‘Fantastic. Learning so much.’   
  
    Ian huffed out a breath before saying, ‘Look, I-I have no idea what I’m doing. My last boyfriend wasn’t much of a _talker_ , his idea of a conversation was to insult me a bunch and then punch me right before we banged.’   
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows rose and he felt a new flow of anxiety spread through him. ‘Is that how you saw everything? Is that it?’   
  
    ‘You’re a victim of domestic abuse?’ Caleb asked, sounding all concerned, and Mickey just wanted to scream.   
  
    Suddenly everything was in a new light, and Mickey felt tears spring to his eyes again. A flurry of memories spread through his mind, every time they’d fought or yelled or punched, but Mickey had thought that had been the past, he’d thought he’d been doing so good ever since he came out. He’d tried, he’d tried to be the best partner he could manage, to be what Ian needed. He’d brought his pills, he’d stuck by him, he told him he loved him, but what had happened?   
  
   _‘I don’t need a fuckin’ caretaker, alright? I need the shit-talking, bitch-slapping, piece of Southside trash I fell for. Where is he? Where is fuck he, Mickey?’_  
  
 _‘Fuck you! Fuck me for giving a shit, you prick!’_  
  
 _‘Give all the shits you want, but the next time my dick is limp from all the meds, don’t go all “aw, aw, it’s okay, wah, wah”; just suck it harder, you faggot.’_   
  
    It had all been for nothing. He was still not good enough; he was still not what Ian needed. He thought now that maybe they hadn’t been good for each other, maybe they were fucking toxic trash trying to dress it up as love. Mickey took a shaky breath and shook his head. No. No, it hadn’t been perfect. Fuck if it had even been healthy, but he’d loved Ian. With everything his shitty self had to offer. And no one, not even Ian himself, was going to take away the few moments of happiness he’d had. Those memories were all he’d had in his piece of shit life, and no one could taint them and call them something different.   
  
    Caleb’s phone buzzed, breaking Mickey out of his spiralling, and he stood. ‘I gotta get to the firehouse.’   
  
    ‘I thought you were off duty.’   
  
    ‘I know this sounds like an excuse considering how well this is going, but Hank’s kid is sick, needs me to cover.’   
  
    ‘Let me come with you.’   
  
    ‘To the firehouse?’   
  
    ‘I wanna go for a run.’   
  
    ‘Alright. Lay low.’   
  
    Mickey didn’t want to go. He just wanted to go home, even though he didn’t know where that was at the moment.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey sat atop the firetruck, enjoying the feeling of being up so high, even though he constantly felt like he was supposed to be low. The sirens were muted and the lights of the firetruck danced in front of his eyes. He felt like he was wasted or something, barely holding on as the earth spun. When they came to a stop, he watched from the top of the fire truck as Ian and Caleb approached some lady covered in blood.   
  
    ‘I stabbed him,’ she cried, ‘He fucked with me for the last time.’   
  
    Mickey stared at her in his daze, thinking of Mandy. Taking a deep breath, he held back his tears and leant back against the firetruck until he was lying on it.   
  
    ‘Fuck,’ he breathed shakily as he wiped at his eyes, staring up at the stars above.   
  
    He could hear the woman crying and Ian talking to her, comforting her and fixing her arm. Mickey was glad the woman was being helped, but couldn’t find it in him to sit up and watch.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey followed Ian as he came up to Caleb’s studio, dragging his feet. He felt so exhausted, emotionally and physically, but he just couldn’t sleep. He had thought ghosts couldn’t sleep, but they must if he was this tired. Ian knocked and Caleb let him in, offering coffee as they entered his studio. They talked for a while about Caleb’s art and Mickey stared at the art as well, wondering if maybe in another life he would’ve liked doing this shit. If he ever had the chance, would he have had something like this?   
  
    ‘What’s this one?’ Ian asked as Caleb handed him some coffee.   
  
    ‘It’s my latest. Love to find the treasure inside the trash. I try to find the secret life in things. What is wants to be instead of what it is.’   
  
    ‘Well that sounds like a dig if nothing else, to be completely fuckin’ honest,’ Mickey breathed, sinking to the ground and laying down. He was so fucking tired.   
  
    ‘Is that what you’re doing with me?’ Ian asked.   
  
    Mickey stared up at the studio’s ceiling, wondering how much it cost to have this place. Firefighter must have some cash if he’s making no money off his art.   
  
    ‘That’s a good question,’ Caleb chuckled a little.   
  
    ‘That’s not an answer,’ Mickey mumbled, shutting his eyes.   
  
    ‘Can I kiss you?’ Caleb asked and Mickey cringed a little.   
  
    ‘I thought kissing happened after you’d had sex a bunch of times,’ Ian said and Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed.   
  
    That’s not what the kid fuckin’ thought the first time they banged. ‘ _Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out_.’   
  
    Caleb laughed. ‘Ian, kissing comes…whenever you want it to. Even now.’   
  
    Mickey himself kind of thought that Caleb seemed to be laughing at Ian, but what the fuck did Mickey know? He was an emotional cripple, apparently an abusive one, who was talking about his ex’s new boyfriend. Maybe he was biased.   
  
    It was silent for a few moments and he heard the scuffling of some shoes, before the very distinct sound of kissing. He kept his eyes screwed shut, not opening them for anything. He was trapped here, but fuck if he was going to see this shit.   
  
* * *   
  
Mickey leant against the wall opposite to the bed, where Ian and Caleb were laying. Ian was sitting up slightly, looking down as Caleb slept. He smiled a little, sitting up to get a better look. Mickey stared at Ian as he gazed at Caleb. He wondered if Ian actually ever looked at him that way. What did Mickey know how he looked at him while he was sleeping? Maybe Ian stared at Mickey with a scowl, wondering when would be the chance to finally get away from him.   
  
    Mickey took a deep breath, as he seemed to be doing a lot lately, and slipped down to the floor. He lay there, praying this wasn’t the place he had to stay now. Tears prickled his eyes and he fought them back. No use crying over this shit anymore. He had to start thinking of ways of getting out of this.   
  
    ‘I’m no good at fuckin’ praying,’ he breathed, voice shaky and thick. ‘And I’m no model citizen, but please fucking let me die. Let me die again. I want it to be done. I want it to be over. He’s happy here without me, great, but don’t make me fucking see it. Let me be done. Let me go.’   
  
    He waited a moment, and when nothing happened, he turned his head to look at Ian again. Maybe the way to leave, to get out of this, was to appeal to Ian. But, fuck, how could he do that when Ian couldn’t even hear him?   
  
    ‘Ian, please. Let me go.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally put that thing in about Mickey wondering if he could do the art stuff cos I'm all for mickey having a hobby.


	6. Ep 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me SO LONG to do! I just have so much hatred towards this ep, it was torture to re-watch :) 
> 
> TW for discussion (and amusement over) Mickey's rape, references to Mickey's rape, and references to previous ixm memories. TW for so much angst. This seriously hurt. 
> 
> Also shout out to whoever made this vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Zkwd9I3xWo (Medicine||Ian & Mickey) because I watched it the whole time I was writing the memory part to remind me of lines and I sobbed so well done for breaking my heart! 
> 
> (PS. Sorry for the rant at the end notes lol)

**Ep 7**  
  
    Mickey was downright pissy this morning and he really didn’t think he could put up with whatever bullshit was in store for him today. As they approached Caleb’s studio, Mickey wondered for the billionth time if it would ever end. Caleb answered the door and they greeted each other, Ian asking if he was hungry before holding up the bag of food they picked up on the way there.  
  
    ‘I am now. What you got?’  
  
    ‘Pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Whatever you like.’  
  
    ‘You brought me morning sausage?’ Caleb teased.  
  
    ‘That shit’s really only charming when I say it, man,’ Mickey grumbled, rolling his eyes and taking his regular seat on the floor.  
  
    ‘Oh shit, am I interrupting something?’ Ian wondered as he followed Caleb in.  
  
    ‘Making a wedding gift for my cousin. No big deal.’  
  
    ‘Looks cool.’  
  
    ‘Wanna touch it?’  
  
    Mickey couldn’t withhold the eye roll. It’s like the universe was trying to make this sound more and more like a gay porno. Apparently all a relationship takes is a bunch of innuendo. Still, Mickey was pretty good at lame sex jokes and look at his previous relationship.  
  
    ‘The flower?’  
  
    Caleb laughed. ‘Yeah.’  
  
    Ian touched the flower, moving it back and forth as he murmured, ‘Beautiful.’  
  
    ‘Yeah, my cousin won’t appreciate it, but I don’t care. It’s all in the giving.’  
  
    ‘So because you — a dude who clearly has some cash to throw around — are bitter about no one liking your shitty art, you’re going to be a cheap asshole and give your cousin this thing for their wedding?’ Mickey scoffed from the floor. ‘Wow. You’re such a _nice guy_.’  
  
    Seriously. Mickey was _so_ moody.  
  
    ‘You heading to the firehouse today? I was hoping I could tag along,’ Ian said.  
  
    ‘Careful, Gallagher, the guy might start thinking you only want him for his connections,’ Mickey mumbled, finally rising from the floor to look at some of the sculpture things.  
  
    ‘No, took it off for the wedding. _Whole_ family in attendance. Should be fun.’ Caleb made a face.  
  
    ‘Oh, okay.’ Ian removed his coat and took a seat.  
  
    ‘Thought anymore about applying?’  
  
    ‘Ah, yes, the _only_ conversation topic that actually flows between you two.’ Mickey laughed humourlessly, stealing some of Caleb’s food without either of them noticing.  
  
    ‘To be a fireman?’ Ian asked.  
  
    ‘Yeah, why not?’  
  
    Ian paused for a moment before saying, ‘I don’t know where I’d start…Honestly.’  
  
    ‘Wow, good thing you’re talking to a _fucking fireman_.’ Seriously, Mickey could not be more huffy.  
  
    ‘Start as an EMT,’ Caleb suggested. ‘I could help you apply.’  
  
    ‘Yeah?’  
  
    ‘Sure, what do you have to lose?’  
  
    ‘Yeah, maybe.’  
  
    They eyed each other for a moment before Ian stood.  
  
    ‘I should go. Let you get ready.’ He touched Caleb’s shoulder as he headed out.  
  
    ‘Why, Ian? This has been such a thrilling visit, I don’t want it to fucking end!’ Mickey mockingly whined, playing with a random tool Caleb had on his table.  
  
    ‘Hey, listen, listen.’ Caleb stopped Ian from leaving and Mickey let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t know if it’s too weird or whatever, but would you wanna be my wedding date? My family’s a bit much, but I think you’d make the whole thing a lot more fun.’  
  
    Ian and Mickey both paused. Ian, because he was clearly thinking it over, and Mickey because he was eyeing the weird expression Ian had on, wondering why on earth Caleb thought this kid was fun. Maybe Ian was fun before this shit happened, but he certainly wasn’t now. Mickey could honestly not fucking understand Caleb’s interest in Ian…or vice versa. It’s not like the conversations were interesting or even anything but smalltalk, they lasted a short while, and Ian always had a look on his face like he was trying desperately to push out a shit that’d been stuck up there for weeks. Mickey just didn’t get it.  
  
    Ian agreed after a moment and they left. Mickey was still confused about their whole situation, but decided not to dwell. Wasn’t his fuckin’ relationship.    
  
***  
  
Later, when they were at the wedding, Mickey eyed everyone’s outfits before glancing down at his own shirt and jeans. Good think no one could see him, because he was majorly fucking underdressed. Caleb and Ian talked for a bit about some stuff that Mickey was barely listening to when a middle-aged couple approached.  
  
    ‘Son, were you going to come and greet your mother and I or did you think you could avoid us all day?’ The man asked, seemingly irked.  
  
    ‘We just got here.’ Caleb seemed pretty annoyed already too. “Mom, Dad, this is Ian. We met at the firehouse and have been hanging out lately. Ian, these are my folks.’  
  
    Unbidden, a memory flashed through Mickey’s head. ‘ _I’ve been at Ian’s since you’ve been in the can, bitch. Guess what we’ve been doing, Daddy? We’ve been fucking!_ ’ Maybe he thought of that then because this felt similar, but in a more calm fashion. Maybe this is what Caleb was thinking inside his head. Poking the bear and all that.  
  
    Ian put out his hand for them to shake. Caleb’s mother gave a hearty greeting and Mickey couldn’t help but kind of like her. However, then his father started asking about church and Mickey went right back to not fucking listening and giving no shits.  
  
***  
  
As they sat in the ceremony, Mickey sitting on top of someone as the pastor started going on about God _really loudly_. Mickey glanced beside him to see Caleb with his arm around Ian, smiling smugly up at his father.  
  
    ‘ _Oh_ ,’ Mickey said, ‘I see what’s going on here. Giving Daddy what for, huh? Yeah, I’ve been through that too. Only I ended up with broken fuckin’ ribs.’  
  
***  
  
Mickey leant against the bar, wishing desperately that he could get hammered right now as he watched everyone enjoying the reception. Caleb and Ian were beside him, talking and laughing and enjoying themselves, and Mickey felt more bitter and angry that he ever had before.  
  
    ‘Don’t you just love straight weddings?’ Caleb asked Ian in amusement.  
  
    ‘Oh, yeah, they’re a fuckin’ blast,’ Mickey responded sarcastically, even though he knew Caleb wasn’t talking to him.  
  
    ‘The only wedding I’ve ever been to was when my closeted boyfriend had to marry this pregnant hooker that he was forced to fuck at gunpoint, so…’ Ian said casually, letting out a chuckle afterward that Caleb echoed.  
  
     _‘She’s gonna fuck the faggot out of you, kid.’_  
  
    And that was the moment that Mickey’s entire world spun down to a single focus point.  
  
 _‘Get the fuck off him!’_

_‘Together.’_

_‘Sorry I’m late.’_

_‘Of course we are.’_

_‘Did I just get invited to a sleepover?’_

_‘Not everybody just gets to blurt out how they fuckin’ feel every minute.’_

_‘Come here, Army!’_

_‘He stays here; he’s staying with me!’_

_‘Don’t.’_

_‘You do have really nice legs.’_

_‘I need to see you.’_

_‘What’s that, mumbles?’_

_‘Don’t fuckin’ tell me what’s impossible!’_

_‘Four years. Minimum.’_

_‘You happy now?’_

_‘He’s not afraid to kiss me.’_

_‘He’s fuckin’ family.’_  
  
 _‘This is it. This is you breaking up with me.’_  
  
    ‘Fuck,’ Mickey breathed, collapsing to the floor as the room started spinning around him.  
  
    The night seemed to go in fast-motion around him as he tried with all he had to hold himself together. He took deep breaths in and out, trying not to fall apart again. Soon enough, he saw Ian and Caleb leaving the reception, laughing and smiling. Mickey blinked back tears as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
_‘I’m worried about you. I love you.’_  
  
    He didn’t snap back to Ian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie. I was totally channeling myself through Mickey in the first part. That scene was just torture to watch/write because of how bland and boring it was. No chemistry at all between the actors, I'm sorry to say. This isn't even me wanting Noel back. (After all that happened in that episode I want my bby Mickey to never see Ian again but that's just me). Every scene between Caleb and Ian I can only equate to being put in partners for a project at school with someone you've never spoken to before and trying desperately to start up small-talk, only to realise there is a reason you've never spoken to them. But again. That's just me. (I, like Mickey, am also in a pissy mood today) :) 
> 
> And don't even get me STARTED on the other scenes this episode. I decided to cut so many of them because I was sick of writing them/I was bored/I was angry/I just wanted Mickey to sort of be in a weird stupor this chapter (there is reasoning behind that, I swear). 
> 
> So yeah, let me know what you thought! :) I feel like this chapter is so inadequate and I feel really bad about that, but I'm also trying to slowly get back in the swing of this one since it makes me so sad :(


	7. Ep 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for references to Mickey's rape. Also references to a lot of different canon shameless things, but I don't think any of them will be triggering. If something is, please let me know so I can add it in these notes! Thanks :)

**Ep 8**   
  
When Mickey finally woke up, it was with a killer headache. Apparently passing the fuck out for however long did nothing for the agony he felt like he was constantly in. He blinked in confusion as he glanced around the room. He was on the floor of a visiting room of a prison. Only it was empty. And he was on the wrong side. Usually he was used to being on the side the prisoners were on, but this side was for the visitors.   
  
    He sat up as a blonde woman entered the room. She was middle-aged and familiar looking, but Mickey couldn’t place her. She came up and took a seat nearby him, so Mickey decided to just go along with it and see what the fuck was going on. When he took the seat next to her, he came face-to-face with Ian. And now he knew where he recognised her from.   
  
    ‘What the fuck?’ he breathed, realising that Ian looked like he did when they were still together. ‘What the _fuck_ is happening?’   
  
    He could tell Ian was in army jail since he was wearing that fucking awful uniform and he looked so tired, just like when they were in that meeting with the authorities trying to explain Ian’s behaviour.   
  
    ‘I’m glad you came, you know. I wasn’t sure you would when I called you,’ Ian said and Mickey’s breath caught.   
  
    Ian was the one who called Monica. For some reason, he’d always thought Monica had randomly turned up at the worst possible moment, but Ian had called her. Ian wanted Monica to come and take him away.   
  
    ‘Of course I would!’ Monica said. ‘I hitched a ride with a tractor salesman and a gorgeous Collie dog. I love a dog, but my boyfriend’s allergic, so…’   
  
    ‘You have a boyfriend, since when?’ Ian asked.   
  
    ‘Oh, yeah, let’s just all have a nice fuckin’ chat about this, why don’t we?’ Mickey scoffed, so done with whatever the hell was happening to him.   
  
    He started to ignore Monica and just stared at Ian. God, he missed him. Sure, if anyone were watching what was happening with Mickey it would seem like he’s seen a lot of Ian recently. It wasn’t that way for him. The Ian he had been haunting was not the same person to him, just like the same Ian who left for the army was not the same one that returned. They were all different versions, but he had been so deeply in love with all of them.   
  
    ‘There’s always gonna be people that are gonna try and fix us,’ Monica said and Mickey tuned back in, feeling like this was familiar.   
  
_‘I don’t need to be fixed, okay?!’_   
  
    ‘And you can never make those people happy. Like it breaks their heart just to look at you.’   
  
    ‘Yeah, I, uh—even Mickey now,’ Ian said, wiping at his eye.   
  
    ‘Ian…’ Mickey breathed.   
  
    Mickey wanted desperately to hold him and tell him that he wanted him no matter what. He wanted to go back. He wanted to go back to before all this bullshit happened, and he wanted to forget that it did. He wanted to go back to the Ian that loved him. Before Mickey saw this, he was slowly falling out of love with Ian Gallagher. Well, whoever he was now, anyway. Coming back to this, though, it hit him again like a fucking freight train.   
  
    ‘Ian, I love you,’ Mickey said, trying to reach through the glass and touch him, but his hand met the glass and stopped. ‘Fuck. No. Ian.’ Mickey stood, banging on the glass a little wildly, but he didn’t know what else to do. ‘I want you back, Ian. Meds, no meds — I want to fuckin’ be with you.’ He turned his head to the sky, once again begging to whoever was there. ‘Please, I want to go back! I can’t do this anymore. If I’m going to spend all eternity with him like this, take me back to now. Don’t make me go back to him and Caleb; I can’t do it!’   
  
    ‘I’m sure he means well, but you need to be with people who accept you for who you are. They’re out there. You should never apologise for being you. You, Ian, I love you.’   
  
    ‘Ian.’ Mickey stared at him as he started crying, and Mickey started crying right along with him. ‘Please, fuckin’…please.’   
  
    It was becoming more and more obvious that no one up there was listening. Maybe there wasn’t anyone there anyway. Mickey shut his eyes.   
  
*   
  
When he opened them, he was lying down in some wet, cold grass. Noticing there was someone lying next to him, he flinched away before turning and seeing Ian, holding up his phone. Mickey shuffled closer to see that he was calling. Ian stared at it for a few moments, the sky full of stars framing that picture of the two of them, before ignoring the call.   
  
    ‘Ignoring me, Gallagher?’ Mickey sniffed, settling into the grass. ‘That’s fuckin’ colder than this grass.’   
  
    Mickey glanced at Ian to see him staring up blankly and sadly at the stars above them. Mickey also turned to look at them, amazed by how many there actually were. It was sort of fucking beautiful. Even with his lack of life and crushing depression, he could acknowledge that. His heart ached in his chest like it had been for the past few weeks as he remembered something.   
  
    He laughed a little through his tears, continuing to look up at the sky. ‘I would’ve brought a blanket, you know, but I’m fuckin’…incorporeal or whatever.’   
  
    ‘Doubt we’ll see any shooting stars anyway, Mick.’   
  
    Mickey then proceeded to jump right out of his fucking skin, staring in shock at the man beside him. It wasn’t the same Ian who had been staring at the stars, no. It was Ian Gallagher before he went to the army. His hair was in a buzzcut, he had a lopsided grin on his face, and he was fucking magnificent.   
  
    ‘Holy fuck,’ Mickey breathed, completely stunned.   
  
    You’d think that after all he’s been through, nothing would surprise him, but no. This was a fucking shock as much as any other. Mickey sat up.   
  
    ‘So this is Mickey Milkovich in two years,’ Ian teased, sitting up as well. ‘Thank God, man, I was worried you’d begin turning grey early.’   
  
    Mickey, blinking back tears, grinned. ‘You’d fuckin’ like that, though; wouldn’t you, Gallagher?’   
  
    Ian gave him a sly smile and shrugged, glancing at the stars again. Monica and her boyfriend were arguing in the caravan, and they could hear them loud and clear. Mickey stared at Ian’s face as it faded into gradual disappointment.   
  
    Ian glanced down at his lap before turning to Mickey. ‘It’s bad, huh?’   
  
    Mickey rubbed at his lip with his thumb before hesitantly saying, ‘Yeah, man…It’s…it’s bad.’   
  
    ‘Do you know what happens after this?’ Ian gestured around him.   
  
    Mickey nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. Uh, I give it about fifteen hours, maybe, until you break up with me?’   
  
    Then Ian had that goddamn puppy look on his face that Mickey hated. He couldn’t handle it when Ian had that face on. It managed to hurt him as well.   
  
    ‘Tell me what we get. What good stuff do we get?’   
  
    ‘A good few months,’ Mickey promised. ‘A really fuckin’ good few months. Best months of my life, actually.’   
  
    ‘Maybe after we break up, we sort out whatever shit is happening and we can get back together?’ Ian suggested hopefully. ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as what happened with…’ Ian teared up and Mickey fought back his own tears as they both knew what he was referencing.   
  
    ‘Don’t worry, man. It’ll all be funny one day. It’ll all be some stupid, distant memory of your first, closeted boyfriend.’   
  
    ‘It won’t ever be _funny_ ,’ Ian snapped, eyes hard. ‘You won’t ever just be my closeted boyfriend, Mick. I can’t fuckin’ believe that we’re finally boyfriends and I break up with you…After all that shit…I’ve been waiting so long. I’m so fucking stupid.’   
  
    Mickey shook his head, still feeling stupidly protective over future Ian. ‘You’re not stupid. You had a lot of shit going on and it just made sense to you at the time. Trust me, Ian, you’ll want to break up with me one day. It’ll be fine, though. I’ll be fine; you’ll be fine.’ The lies slipped out so easily, Mickey was surprised at himself.   
  
    Out of nowhere, Ian grabbed his hand and Mickey bit his lip, desperately holding in sobs. It’d been so long since he’d touched Ian and felt his warmth. God, he missed him so much.   
  
    ‘Is it better in the future? Are we happy even though we’re broken up?’   
  
    ‘Yeah,’ Mickey whispered. ‘Of course we are.’   
  
    ‘Then we can get back together. Clearly we just needed shit to sort out. Mick, I never want to leave you again. The army is shit; I want to come home.’   
  
    Ian’s voice was so small that Mickey’s heart hurt. Everything hurt. Mickey was falling to pieces and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for Ian and it wasn’t fair for him.   
  
    ‘You’ll come home. We’ll be together for a while, and it’ll be good, and then we will break up. It’s fine, Ian.’   
  
    ‘Promise me you’ll try,’ Ian begged. ‘Promise that once you get back to whatever time you’re from that you’ll try to fix things. That you’ll try to get us back together.’   
  
     _‘You gonna wait for me?’_   
  
    ‘Mickey,’ Ian said quietly when Mickey stayed silent, staring at his lap. Ian grabbed his chin, tilting his face up to look at him. ‘Mickey, promise me you’ll try, because I don’t want to not be with you.’   
      
 _‘Fuckin’ lie if you have to, man; eight years is a long time.’_   
  
    ‘Yeah, Ian. I’ll try.’   
  
_‘Yeah, Mick. I’ll wait.’_   
  
    ‘Mick,’ Ian whispered, leaning forward. ‘I love you.’   
  
    Mickey shut his eyes, finally letting tears fall. ‘I love you, too, Ian.’   
  
    Their lips touched once, and then Mickey was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol fuck ep 8. Mickey hanging around, totally depressed, after that last ep, when Caleb and Ian were just doing date stuff would have been a shit chapter. SO I thought fuck ep 8. Fuck s6 Ian Galager. Fuck Caleb. Fuck it ALL. (However, this is not the end). Last chapter, however, IS the end of Mickey just being there through the episode. I am gonna start mixing it up now! Fuck everything. Everything is thrown out the window. I am so goddamn done with the original idea for this fic. I am FUMING. I am RAGING. 
> 
> Anywayyyy, hope you enjoyed the chapter and the visit from s3 puppy Ian Gallagher :))) (I was going to call him '17 year old Ian Gallagher in the fic but then I was like ??? is he still 17?) 
> 
> I literally cried several times while writing this, so I hope that didn't affect it's quality lol :) (Also, if anyone was wondering, that "of course we are" reference was intentional and it hurt to even write it)


	8. Ep 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me be the first to complain about how much these fucking actors MUMBLE. Half the time writing this book, I'm like ????? WHAT DID U EVEN SAY? Maybe it's my shitty hearing, idk, but I can't understand a lot of what they say. Also. MANDY.

**Ep 9**   
  
‘Shit.’   
  
    Mickey woke up to that whisper.   
  
    ‘Shit, shit, _shit_ , motherfucking—’ the panicked voice gasped and something fell over.   
  
    Mickey blinked, trying to see his surroundings again, wondering where the fuck he had ended up this time. He was in a hotel room bathroom.   
  
    Lying next to a dead body.   
  
    ‘Holy fuck!’ Mickey shouted, jumping away from the man lying in his own blood on the bathroom floor.   
  
    It’s not like he wasn’t used to seeing corpses; it’s more like he wasn’t used to seeing corpses lying next to him when he wakes up. He stumbled to his feet, out into the hotel room. He stopped short when he saw Mandy crouched on the floor, blood on her dress as she talked into her phone in a panic. Without thinking that she couldn’t see him, he rushed over to her and knelt beside her.   
  
    ‘Mandy,’ he breathed. ‘I’ve been so fuckin’ worried about you, douchebag.’   
  
    ‘Thanks, Ian,’ Mandy said into the phone before hanging up, standing and ruffling her hair as she clearly tried to stay calm.   
  
    ‘What the fuck is going on?’ Mickey groaned, rubbing at his head, where a migraine was beginning to form.   
  
    Seeing as Mandy didn’t respond, since she clearly couldn’t see or hear him, he went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. He eyed the corpse for a moment before sighing and looking away.   
  
    ‘Can’t fuckin’ believe I’m still getting into this shit even in the afterlife,’ Mickey grumbled to himself, not looking forward to Ian turning up.   
  
    Unfortunately, it was only twenty more minutes before there was a knock at the door and a muffled, ‘Mandy!’   
  
    ‘Who is it?’ Mandy called out, voice echoing.   
  
    ‘It’s me.’   
  
    Mickey sighed as Mandy opened the door and went to join them as Ian came in. Mandy had shut the bathroom door, so he just walked his ghosty ass right on through it.   
  
    ‘Is that why you called?’ Ian continued some conversation Mickey hadn’t heard.   
  
    ‘’Cause I did crank?’ Mandy said.   
  
    ‘Well?’   
  
    ‘No, that.’ Mandy gestured back at the bathroom door where Mickey was standing. ‘That’s why.’   
  
    For some stupid fucking moment, Mickey thought that maybe Mandy meant him, but then Mandy opened the door and Mickey remembered the _fuckin’ dead body_. Ian gasped and went in to check if the guy was okay, but Mandy quickly confirmed he was dead before turning and looking down at her dress, bitching about the blood splattered on it. Ian followed her out, growling about her telling him what happened.   
  
    ‘I met him through my service,’ Mandy admitted.   
  
    ‘What service?’   
  
    Mandy turned back around, and Mickey already knew the answer before she said it. ‘Escort.’   
  
*  
  
Mickey watched from the corner as they rolled the guy up in the shower curtain. He could think of a thousand better ways to get rid of the body, but clearly he couldn’t voice any of those ideas so he sat back and watched the idiots try and figure it out themselves. He was surprised Mandy wasn’t more adept at this. She was a Milkovich, after all.   
  
    ‘You don’t think they won’t miss the shower curtain?’ Mickey wondered aloud, seeing Ian’s eye twitch. ‘Can you hear me, Gallagher? Seriously, not knowing whether you can hear me is getting _old_.’   
  
    They paused for a moment at Mandy’s request, and then proceeded to have a nice fucking conversation about Mandy’s hair, as if this was the right fucking time for that.   
  
    ‘How are you going to explain _this_ to your boyfriend, Gallagher?’ Mickey kicked his feet up. ‘I mean, you both are _going_ to get fuckin’ caught because you are clearly amateurs.’   
  
    They both started again, before Ian questioned about the cameras in the hall and Mandy suggested throwing him out the window. Ian glanced down at the body, considering. Mandy, meanwhile, continued to try and get the body out. Ian then broke the truth about the windows not opening all the way, and Mandy seemed more panicked now.   
  
    ‘So, we’ll take him out in sections,’ Mandy suggested, throwing herself toward her bag. ‘I’ll call my brothers.’   
  
    Mickey looked up in surprise at that, talking over Ian. ‘You know where they are? Mandy, you know where Iggy is? Mandy. Hear me, Mandy.’   
  
    Ian was jabbering on about his amazing plan of calling 911, while Mickey was now trying to get Mandy to fucking hear him.   
  
    ‘Mandy!’ he shouted. ‘Come _on_ , Mandy.’   
  
    He didn’t exactly know himself why he thought he could reach out to Mandy all of a sudden, but he did. He thought that maybe since Mandy mentioned her brothers, maybe she would go visit the prison at some point. Maybe Mandy was his hope for getting the word out.   
  
    Knowing that Mandy couldn’t hear him, he sat down on the floor next to Ian. The 911 guys showed up eventually and sorted everything out. Mickey slipped into sleep as Mandy and Ian left, wondering where he was going now.   
  
*   
  
He was in the Gallagher house when he woke up, lying on Ian’s new bed in Fiona’s old room. Mandy was standing next to the bed, getting dressed.   
  
    ‘Oh, just what a brother fuckin’ wants to see,’ Mickey groaned in disgust, covering his eyes. ‘Put some fuckin’ clothes on, Mandy.’   
  
    ‘Mickey?!’ Mandy screeched, jumping away from the bed.   
  
    Mickey removed his hand from his eyes slowly, eyeing her in shock as she stood there in her underwear, blue eyes abnormally wide. ‘What the _fuck_.’   
  
    ‘Aren’t you in prison? Doesn’t Ian have a boyfriend?’ Mandy frowned, stumbling back from the bed.   
  
    ‘Yeah, he does.’ Mickey sat up, feeling surprisingly casual about it all. ‘And, no, I’m not in prison. I’m actually dead.’   
  
    Mandy scowled. ‘Don’t be an asshole. Seriously, Mick, what are you doing here?’   
  
    ‘I’m fuckin’ dead, Mandy!’ Mickey shouted, done with it all. As his temper spiked, a glass in the room shattered.   
  
    ‘Holy shit!’ Mandy gasped, falling on the floor. ‘What the fuck?!’   
  
    Mickey quickly joined her on the floor, deciding he didn’t have enough time for the whole convincing bullshit. Who knows how long he had before she couldn’t hear him anymore? ‘Mandy, I need your help. I’m fuckin’ stuck here, and I need to fuckin’…let go somehow. I don’t know how, and I need your help. Do you know where Iggy is?’   
  
    Mandy screwed her face up. ‘Yeah, he lives with this bitch downtown. Why do you need Iggy?’   
  
    ‘Remember how he was into all that witchcraft voodoo stuff for a while, and we all made fun of him for it?’   
  
    Mandy nodded slowly. ‘Yeah…’   
  
    ‘He’s got to have some knowledge trapped up there in that airhead of his,’ Mickey explained. ‘He might know how to fix it. He also hung around that crowd for a while, maybe he knows someone who can sort it out. Either way, you’ve got to help me, Mands.’   
  
    Suddenly, her blue eyes filled with tears and the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. ‘You haven’t called me that in years. I miss you, fuckhead.’   
  
    ‘You too, asshole.’ Mickey wrapped his arms around her and, luckily, didn’t go right through her.   
  
    For a moment, they both let go and just fucking cried. After a few seconds, Mickey pulled away, knowing they didn’t have much time until Ian came back.   
  
    ‘Okay, so can you just get out of here as soon as possible?’ Mickey asked. ‘Don’t tell Ian and we can just go and find Igs?’   
  
    ‘Why can’t I tell Ian? He should know, Mick.’ Mandy frowned.   
  
    ‘He doesn’t need to know shit,’ Mickey snapped. ‘Mandy, I don’t want him to know, okay? I’ve been stuck with him for the past couple of months, and I don’t want him to know. I’ve made my decision and you’re gonna fuckin’ respect it. My dying wish, or whatever…even though I’m already dead.’   
  
    Mandy covered her mouth with her hand, tears starting to form in her eyes again. ‘I can’t believe you’re dead.’   
  
    ‘Kinda poetic or some shit, though, right? Mickey Milkovich: fucked for life. Born and died Southside,’ Mickey attempted a joke. When it clearly didn’t work, he tried for honesty, because why the fuck not? 'But I’m glad you’re out, Mandy, even if you are an escort.’   
  
    ‘There’s nothing wrong with my job!’ Mandy snapped, shoving him.   
  
    Mickey panicked as he heard Ian coming back up and sat on the floor in the corner, hoping he wouldn’t see him. ‘Shut up and get dressed, skank!’   
  
    ‘Fuck off, pussy,’ she snapped and shoved her dress on, starting to brush her hair.   
  
    When Ian came in and looked her up and down, Mandy returned the look strangely defiantly and also in confusion. For a minute, she’d really thought Mickey was still bullshitting her, but Ian couldn’t see him.   
  
    ‘It’s a nice dress,’ Ian said, ‘Hard to tell there was blood on it.’   
  
    Mandy paused, flipping her hair over her shoulder and catching Mickey’s eye. ’You know I’m okay, right?’ Mandy asked as she looked back at Ian. It felt like it was intended for both of them. ‘The company I work for is a real business. Payroll cheques, health insurance — they take Amax — I’m saving money; I got a nice apartment. You saw my car.’   
  
    Ian hesitated before speaking. ‘Guy last night tried to strange you.’   
  
    Mickey felt anger rolling through his veins all over again at the thought.   
  
    ‘First time that happened, and I used to get beat up for free. Now I don’t sleep with anyone I don’t want to, and I’ve got regulars that are like boyfriends. One guy flew me to New York first class.’   
  
    Ian gave her a gentle smile. ‘What was that like?’   
  
    Mandy seemed pleased with his interest and said, ‘We saw Wicked on Broadway. I went to restaurants — Jacuzzi in the hotel.’   
  
    ‘I was dancing in this club last year, blew guys for fifty bucks, so…there’s no judgement.’   
  
    ‘Why’d you stop?’ Mandy asked.   
  
    Mickey felt his chest ache for both of them. People he fucking loved so much, and couldn’t stop loving, and they had been through so much. So had he, but he also found himself slowly letting a lot of it go in death. Not all of it, definitely not all of it, but he was slowly snipping each string and watching a lot of his issues floating away. Although he would never want anyone to be stuck in the hellish limbo he was, he did pity them. They were still stuck there. Mickey couldn’t wait to leave and be done.   
  
    Gallagher, of course, decided to lighten the mood. ‘Just didn’t like starving myself to fit in that gold thong.’   
  
    Mandy laughed lightly, looking down and out the corner of her eye at Mickey for a moment. She could see him curled up in the corner, looking so much like the kid he was when he was eight and they were hiding from their dad. His words before that he used to sum up his life flashed in her mind.   
  
    She turned back to Ian and said, ‘You know that just ’cause we were born here, doesn’t mean that we end up here.’ She and Ian shared a quick hug and she finally said, ‘I gotta split.’   
  
    As she grabbed her coat, she nodded slightly to Mickey and left the room. He followed after her, taking one last glance at Ian. He wondered if maybe he’d snap back to him like before or whether this was the last time he’d ever see Ian Gallagher. He let that one glance, figuring it would be the last, be everything.   
  
    He looked at his freckles and his hair and his face. He remembered the Ian Gallagher with the bangs he constantly blinked out of his eyes. He remembered the Ian Gallagher who was super proud of the muscles he started growing in. He remembered the Ian Gallagher who stared after him in wonderment after Mickey kissed him. He remembered the Ian Gallagher who held him the night he came out. He remembered the Ian Gallagher who he’d had for a while as his boyfriend — who had lived with him, slept with him, loved him. He looked at this Ian Gallagher, the one who he couldn’t help but love even if he’d said some things that had broken Mickey beyond repair, because he still had some of the old Ian Gallagher in him. He loved Mandy, and cared for her, and for that, Mickey still loved him.   
  
    He looked at this Ian Gallagher and, in one glance, he finally let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for nostalgia, if you hadn't already noticed :) ALSO. Iggy had an interest in witchcraft and voodoo shit, don't fight me on this. Iggy needs a hobby and I want it to be about demons and angels and supernatural shit. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought! :)


	9. Ep 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol imagine if I still gave a shit about the original plot for this fic :)

**Ep 10**   
  
Mandy Milkovich had seen a lot of crazy shit in her time — caused a lot of it, too — but this was some new kind of crazy fucking shit. As she pulled away from the Gallagher’s house, she kept glancing over at her brother — her _dead_ brother— sitting in the passenger seat. She really didn’t know what to say to him. She had about a million questions, but she didn’t know whether it was okay to ask. In any other situation, she’d just ask anyway, but this was one fucked up situation so she had no clue what to do.   
  
    ‘I know you wanna ask, Mands,’ he said tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Just fuckin’ ask already.’   
  
    ‘What the fuck happened to you?’ she unintentionally snapped, the confusion making her angry.   
  
    Mickey, however, didn’t snap back, which only made Mandy more confused and worried. He just sighed and said, ‘Killed in prison. Woke up in the Gallagher house. No one could see me. Followed Gallagher around unwillingly all this time.’   
  
    ‘Unwillingly?’ Mandy’s eyebrows furrowed as she pulled out of the street and down a main road toward Iggy’s.   
  
    ‘Yeah, every time I tried to leave, I got, uh, snapped back to Ian or whatever.’   
  
    ‘So you’ve seen Ian’s, uh…the, uh…’   
  
    ‘The boyfriend?’ Mickey finished her sentence for her, arching his eyebrows at her.   
  
    The awkward look on her face was almost funny to Mickey. No point being awkward about it now that he’d been there for their whole relationship pretty much. He’s glad he at least missed probably a few days while he went back into that other memory.   
  
    Mandy swallowed, nodding slowly and not facing Mickey. ‘Yeah.’   
  
    Mickey shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against the window. ‘Oh yeah, I’ve seen him.’   
  
    Without looking, Mandy held a hand out like she used to when they were kids, before Mickey would snap that he wasn’t a fucking girl who needed to hold his little sister’s hand. Mickey took a deep breath and slid his hand into hers.   
  
    ‘You’re not cold,’ Mandy said in surprise. The weirdness of that only just occurred to her. ‘Why are you so warm?’   
  
    ‘The fuck should I know? I have no idea about whatever’s going on here; that’s why I want to find Iggy.’ Mickey pulled his hand out of Mandy’s, getting frustrated now.   
  
    They were silent for a few more minutes. Mandy felt the time between where they were and where Iggy was grow shorter and shorter, and she began to panic a little. She wasn’t done with the questions. She wasn’t ready for Iggy to sort it out and for Mickey to go away. She suddenly regretted not coming to visit him in prison, and for leaving with that fuckhead Kenyatta. She didn’t spend enough time with her dickhead of a brother and now he was going to leave her. It just wasn’t fair.   
  
    Still, she didn’t have the time to wallow in the injustice of it all. She had one question that still absolutely needed answering.   
  
    ‘Mick, why didn’t you want to tell Ian?’ Mandy whispered when there was a few minutes until they reached Iggy’s.   
  
    Mickey sighed, not answering her and running a hand through his hair.   
  
    ‘Mickey.’   
  
    ‘Drop it, Mandy.’   
  
    ‘No!’ Mandy snapped. ‘He was your _boyfriend_ , you douchebag! He might not have been the best boyfriend toward the end, but that was his bipolar, not him! And—’   
  
    ‘Mandy!’ Mickey shouted and she jumped. ‘I don’t want to fucking talk about it, okay? I don’t blame him. I really don’t. I’m just…pissed off about a few things that I saw when I was haunting his ginger ass. I don’t need him to know right now. After I’m absolutely worm food, you can tell him if you want, but for now, just leave it.’   
  
    ‘You don’t want to know if there’s a way to talk to him one last time?’ Mandy asked, getting increasingly more upset.   
  
    ‘No, I don’t. I’m done with him, just like he’s done with me, and that’s all there is to it.’   
  
    ‘So, that’s it? All those years and all that shit you both went through…it’s nothing? Mickey, he deserves a good bye, if nothing else.’   
  
    Mickey tensed up, really getting fucked off with his sister’s attitude. He was aching to tell her, to tell her everything he had witnessed. He wanted to tell her about how Ian thought he was just an abusive asshole now and how what happened to Mickey was just a conversation piece at weddings. He wanted to tell her so badly, but he also knew it would ruin Ian for her and he didn’t want that. There was also something deep down inside of him that worried that maybe she would think it’s nothing, that Mickey’s just being a pussy about this like he has been about so many other things. So he kept quiet about it.   
  
    Mandy pulled into Iggy’s driveway finally and turned to Mickey, tears welling up in her eyes. It was a weird contrast to her hardened scowl. ‘Whatever, I’ll make sure to comfort _your_ ex over _your_ death when I’m allowed to even tell him about it.’   
  
    Without another look at Mickey, Mandy jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Mickey sat behind for a few moments, thinking to himself that Ian probably won’t need comforting anyway. He sighed deeply before following her out of the car.   
  
*   
  
As it turned out, it was pretty fucking easy to convince Iggy that Mickey was dead. He could see him, which surprised Mickey. Mandy wondered if maybe everyone but Ian could see Mickey. Mickey met Iggy’s girl, Giovanna, who was a bit standoffish, but otherwise was okay. She was pretty New Age as well, so she didn’t really care about Mickey being dead. She didn’t even question it.   
  
    ‘What kind of fuckin’ freakshow is happening up in here that she’s just cool with that?’ Mandy whispered to Mickey as Iggy and his girl talked in the kitchen. ‘She just believed us right away as if shit like that can happen.’   
  
    ‘Uh, Mandy, in case you haven’t noticed’ — Mickey gestured to himself — ‘It _has_ fuckin’ happened.’   
  
    Mandy made a face and shrugged. ’True.’   
  
    Iggy let them stay a day or two just to talk about things. Mandy decided not to ask anymore questions and just enjoy these last few days with her brother. They had fun, hanging out and reminiscing about the few good moments in their childhood. Iggy told the story about how Mickey was shot in the ass and, even though the story involved Ian, Mickey couldn’t help but crack up. It was pretty ridiculous.   
  
    Mandy watched her brother laughing and thought that maybe not saying goodbye to Ian was a good thing for him. He seemed to be finally letting go of their relationship, and getting happy. She joked to herself that maybe he had finally reached the acceptance stage of grief. She, however, was already at the bargaining stage.   
  
    The two nights they slept there before they really started thinking about how to help Mickey, she prayed. She’s only prayed twice in her life before: when she got pregnant with her father’s baby, and when Ian left for the army. She still wasn’t sure if anyone was even up there listening, but she felt it was worth a shot both times and now.   
  
    ‘Not Mickey,’ she whispered into the night. She was alone out on Iggy’s balcony with a cigarette and she was staring at the stars. ‘Please, not Mickey. Bring him back…somehow. Please.’   
  
    ‘Mands,’ Iggy murmured as he joined her. ‘Don’t.’   
  
    ‘Don’t what, Iggy?’ she snapped in a low voice, not wanting Mickey to find them or hear them. ‘Don’t wish for my brother to live again? Come on, Ig. You know this wasn’t supposed to be how it turned out for Mickey.’   
  
    Iggy shrugged, leaning against the railing beside her and stealing her smoke to take a drag. ‘I always thought it was you and Mick. You guys were supposed to end up okay. Don’t get me wrong, you guys turned out fuckin’ great for what we were given, but I wanted you both to be happy. Alive would’ve been preferable, yeah.’ Iggy let out a soft laugh at Mandy’s flat expression. ‘But that’s not how it’s ended up. Mandy, be honest. Looking at Mickey now, with him knowing that he’s going to go soon…doesn’t he look happy?’   
  
    ‘Happiest I’ve seen him since…’ Mandy went quiet. ‘You’re right, Iggy. He needs this.’   
  
    The siblings were quiet for a few minutes, passing the smoke back and forth. They were unaware that this is the point where Mickey had wandered out to look for them, stopping at the balcony doors to listen in. Mandy and Iggy weren’t saying anything right now, but Mickey felt like someone was going to and maybe it was something he needed to hear.   
  
    ‘You were around more than me, Ig,’ Mandy blurted, ‘Do you know what went down? With Mickey and Ian, I mean?’   
  
    Iggy shrugged. ‘Dunno. Once Ian went into hospital, I was already hanging out with G. I actually didn’t see Mick until he was in prison. I visited once…and only once. Ian hadn’t been around to visit, Mick said. When he realised I had no news from Ian, he started talking about Yev. Shit, Mands, his eyes lit up when he was talking about the kid. I think the only person he loves as much as Gallagher is that fuckin’ kid, man. But, yeah, Mickey didn’t say anything about Ian. He was too busy asking me about how Yev was, as if I would fuckin’ know.’   
  
    ‘Mick doesn’t want Ian to know, and he doesn’t want to say goodbye,’ Mandy said.   
  
    ‘Well, that’s fucked,’ Iggy breathed out a cloud of smoke. ‘But, whatever, clearly some serious shit went down. None of our business.’   
  
    ‘He’s got to tell someone something, Ig. Who’s going to tell Svetlana that she’s on her own with the parenting? Who’s going to tell Yev he doesn’t have a father?’ Mandy asked, tapping her fingers on the railing anxiously. ‘I can’t do that shit; I just can’t.’   
  
    ‘I’ll have to let them know,’ Iggy said, ‘It’ll fuckin’ suck, but I can do it.’   
  
    ‘Svet won’t give a shit,’ Mickey interrupted, stepping out onto the balcony. Both of his siblings jumped, but didn’t interrupt Mickey as he continued. ‘But I want to see Yev one last time before I go. Think you can pull that shit off, Iggy?’   
  
    Iggy snorted. ‘Man, hate to burst your fuckin’ bubble, but I’ve gotta figure out if I can even send you off. Gonna require some serious mojo from G.’   
  
    Mandy rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, joy. More time with Mother Nature in there.’   
  
    ‘Aye, that’s my girl.’ Iggy elbowed Mandy.   
  
    ‘And my ticket off this shitty plane of existence,’ Mickey chimed in. ‘Don’t fuck this one up for me by being a rude bitch, Mandy.’   
  
    ‘Wouldn’t dream of ruining your chances of oblivion, big brother,’ Mandy retorted.   
  
    ‘Good, because you know what I’d do?’ Before Mandy could respond, Mickey was already getting her in a headlock as Iggy jumped in and twisted Mandy’s nipple.   
  
    ‘Ow, ow! You motherfuckers!’ Mandy screeched, shoving them off. ‘Ugh, I _hate_ you.’   
  
    Mickey and Iggy cracked up. Mickey ruffled Mandy’s hair, making her screech even more, and Mickey couldn’t help but be happy he was spending his last days on earth with his siblings—  
  
    ‘Hurry up and get your dead ass inside, Casper,’ Mandy snapped and headed inside.   
  
    ‘Fuckin’ pale as Casper’s unwanted bastard child,’ Iggy cackled, sticking his tongue out at Mick.   
  
    —even if they are the most _annoying fuckers_ he’s ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so most of the Ian parts in this have been more or less canon (except for Mickey's input). Yes, even Ian's random twitches (which we then assume means that he can hear Mickey) because if you haven't noticed, there are a lot of twitches going on in Ian's general eye area in the show SO. These (more or less) canon scenes will continue into the next chapter (and even though I didn't write it, what happened to Ian in this ep actually happened). BUT I'm thinking the final ep is probably going to have to be MAJORLY tweaked, but that's fine cos I do whatever I want. 
> 
> I'm seriously such a pissy author in the notes in this fic Im so sorry hahah I'm just so bitter. If you want more positive, bubblegum, nice author notes, look at my other fics ha ha. ha ha. ha. #selfpromo :)


	10. Ep 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are so short I've decided to upload twice in one day! Only one more chapter tho!! PS. lol fuck canon.

**Ep 11**   
  
It took two more days, three bottles of vodka, and about a thousand different Wiccan books that Giovanna had to finally get some answers.   
  
    Mickey was apparently an “earthbound spirit”. Some spirits remain at or near the site of their death, which did not happen to Mickey. Instead, he attached to Ian. In some ways, it made sense to them all and, in other ways, it didn’t, but they chose not to question it. When Giovanna announced that Mickey was probably not going into the light because of fear that his existence would end, or the unknown, or hell, Mickey had to object.   
  
    ‘Aye, I’m definitely not afraid of the light. I’m literally seeking the goddamn light out; I just can’t find it. I ain’t afraid of shit!’   
  
    ‘Maybe instead of going into the light once you weren’t afraid anymore, you just detached from Ian,’ Mandy suggested. ‘Maybe you weren’t afraid of dying; maybe you were afraid of leaving Ian.’   
  
    Mickey scowled at her, refusing to even dignify her with a response. Actually, on second thought. ‘Fuck off.’   
  
    ‘“Spirits also stay earthbound due to unfinished business. Once they complete their goal, they pass on”,’ Iggy read out, eyes widening. ‘Dude, what’s your unfinished business?’   
  
    Mickey huffed, crossing his arms and began to pace. ‘I have no fuckin’ unfinished business. Other than that one Sudoku game I never finished, but I don’t really think that’s it.’   
  
    ‘Maybe it’s saying goodbye,’ Mandy said, eyeing Mickey intently.   
  
    ‘Mandy, if you don’t fuck off with that shit!’ Mickey snarled.   
  
    ‘Maybe it’s Yev’s goodbye?’ Iggy suggested. ‘You couldn’t complete your goal because you were stuck to Ian, so maybe now you can do it?’   
  
    ‘It says also that spirits contact the living to assist them if their goal is difficult,’ G added. ‘You need to be comfortable with how you leave things.’   
  
    ‘I’m never going to be fuckin’ comfortable,’ Mickey growled, getting honest-to-God infuriated with this now. ‘How else?’   
  
    ‘It says that you could feel guilty about leaving?’ Iggy looked up at Mickey expectantly.   
  
    Mickey responded with a flat look. ‘Not fuckin’ likely. You shit-heads know, and can take care of yourselves. I only feel guilty about Yev, but I also don’t feel too guilty because I can’t control the fact that I’m dead.’   
  
    Giovanna huffed, shutting her book. ‘Well, I don’t fucking know then.’   
  
    ‘Come _on_ , Mick,’ Mandy groaned. ‘Dig deeper. Find out in that shitty head of yours why the fuck you’re still here.’   
  
    Mickey had had enough for now. ‘No. Nope. I’m fuckin’ done.’   
  
    Without another glance at his siblings and G, he went out onto the balcony and shut the doors. Leaning on the railing, he looked out over Chicago. He didn’t know what to do, and it was getting more and more frustrating. He just wanted to be done already. He wanted to say goodbye to his siblings, to Yev, and then piss off into the…wherever it is you go.   
  
    ‘Jesus, I don’t even know _that_ ,’ he breathed, running a hand through his hair.   
  
*   
  
Four days had passed since Ian had felt right. He didn’t understand what it was. Ever since Mandy left, he’s felt weird, like something is off. It didn’t make any sense. He was happy with Caleb, with his new job, with his family (sort of, anyway). It wasn’t that he was sad, or like his meds weren’t working. He just felt like something was missing.   
  
    He couldn’t help but smile as him and his team drove back from a run. He helped a woman who had had a seizure due to hypoglycemia. Her daughter told them about her history with seizures very quickly as they made sure the area was safe, that she could breathe, and gave her some oxygen. They then took her to the hospital once the seizures died down. He had handled a majority of it himself, making him so happy when the daughter thanked them once they arrived at the hospital. It felt so good to help people.   
  
    Still, as they drove back, he still felt strange. He glanced out the back windows of the van as they drove through the downtown area. There was something about it that gave him a sense of comfort. He settled back a little, watching some smaller apartment buildings pass by. He was about to turn away and talk to his co-workers, when he froze at a figure leaning against the railing of an apartment balcony, watching as the figure got smaller and smaller. Even once they’d past, he was still sure of what he’d seen.   
  
    ‘Mickey?’ he whispered, frowning. ‘What the _fuck_?’   
  
*  
  
After twenty minutes of standing on the balcony, Mickey let out a sigh, deciding to get over his tantrum and join his siblings and Giovanna. They were his only hope at getting out. He trudged back in, flopping down in a beanbag next to the coffee table.   
  
    ‘So, I was thinkin’—’ he stopped short when he realised they were all staring at him. ‘Uh…why are you all looking at me like that?’   
  
    Mandy didn’t say anything, just looked to Iggy and waited for his nod before putting out her phone. She put it on speaker as the voicemail recording played. After the beep, the voice that came made Mickey freeze.   
  
    ‘Hey, Mands. I just was passing downtown and…I think I saw Mickey’s twin? Crazy, huh? I…I don’t know why I’m calling you about this…you don’t care if I saw some guy who looked like Mickey. Uh…yeah. Unless you have something to tell me?’ After a second, Ian let out a breathy laugh. ‘Nah, that’s ridiculous. Sorry for this random voicemail, Mands. Don’t worry, not off my meds, just…Sorry. Shit. I’m—yeah. Bye.’   
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows arched beyond what was usually possible. They all exchanged shocked glances, not saying a word. Iggy opened and shut his mouth about a thousand times, clearly not knowing what to say, but wanting to say _something_. Mandy was just staring blankly at her phone, having no clue about what to do from now. Giovanna was the first one to move, slowly looking down to her book, that was open once again.   
  
    ‘“Another reason a spirit may be earthbound”,’ she began, making them all look at her. ‘“is due to the living. Some of the living holds a spirit here by their love or unwillingness to let go. They may regret things unsaid or undone. They may regret a previous fight with the deceased. The spirit’s love for the living also is a part of this as they do not want them to be sad. They want them to be okay with this. They wish for them to…let go.”’   
  
    Slowly, they all once again turned to stare at the phone in shock.   
  
    ‘Holy shit,’ Mandy breathed. ‘It’s Ian.’   
  
*   
  
_Alright, shithead, this is like the two hundredth time I’m calling and you not picking up, I’m starting to get_ fucking homicidal _. Call me the fuck back, Ian. I’m worried about you. I love you. Call me back._   
  
    Ian glanced across the apartment from where he was seated on the floor at his boyfriend. Caleb was sleeping peacefully in the bed, unaware that Ian was curled up in the corner of his apartment rather than in the bed with him.   
  
    After being fired and thinking he saw Mickey, it had been a long, hard day, and he couldn’t sleep. He felt anxious and depressed and strangely panicked. Not as bad as when he was off his meds, but it was still here. So he climbed out of bed, onto the floor, which is where he’s always felt safest, and did what he always did when he felt this way. He listened to an old, saved voicemail.   
  
    A few tears streamed down his face as he listened to the muffled voice, replaying a certain part over and over. He kept it down low so he wouldn’t wake up Caleb. He didn’t want him finding his boyfriend listening to his ex’s voicemail, especially because of what it said.   
  
    Ian needed this, though. He could get through it if he could have this. He could move on, date other guys and be happy with them, but he just wanted to keep this. This small piece of Mickey.   
  
  _Call me the fuck back, Ian. I’m worried about you. I love you._   
  
    Ian’s hands shook slightly as he turned it back to the number he saw it was on when Mickey said it.  He tried his best to ignore Mickey’s shaky breath after, not wanting to think about what he did to make Mickey that worried.   
  
_I’m worried about you. I love you._   
  
    ‘One more time,’ Ian whispered.   
  
    One more time and then he could sleep. One more time and then he could breathe again.   
  
_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECRET'S OUT. And of course I was going to do it with a random Mickey sighting and two different voicemails, how else could I do it? I had to include that voicemail because how they never confirmed if he heard it drives me CRAZY.


	11. Ep 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never once said this wouldn't hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW for mentions of Mandy's rape, Mickey's rape, other memories).

**Ep 12**  
  
If there’s one thing Mickey’s never seen before, it’s Iggy crying. He knew Iggy’s probably cried before, but it’s never been in front of him like this. Tears were streaming down his big brother’s face, making Mickey clench his jaw and try not to cry as well.  
  
    ‘Fuckin’ hell, man, stop cryin’,’ Mickey snapped, pulling his dumb brother into a hug.  
  
    ‘Fuck _you_ , asshole,’ Iggy sniffed as he hugged him back just as tightly. ‘You’re going to get Ian to let go and then you’re never comin’ back. This is the last time I’ll see you, fuckhead.’  
  
    They both desperately tried to ignore Mandy breaking down in the corner. She was going to drive Mickey back to the Southside and she knew she’d be worse in the car, so she was trying to hold back and let Iggy and Mickey have their moment. Giovanna had said her goodbyes that morning while Mandy and Iggy were asleep.  
  
    ‘Take this,’ she had whispered, handing him a necklace with a stone hanging from it. ‘It’s Lepidolite — the peace stone. It’s also for protection, power, and love.’  
  
    ‘Thanks,’ Mickey’d whispered in response, hanging it around his neck. ‘It was nice to meet you, G.’  
  
    ‘Nice to know you, Mickey Milkovich.’ She’d winked at him before heading off for work, flipping him off before closing the door behind her.  
  
    Mickey’d laughed, thinking about how underneath all that hippy stuff, she definitely belonged in the Milkovich clan.  
  
    Now Iggy finally pulled away, noticing the necklace. ‘Aye, that’s G’s.’  
  
    Mickey nodded, touching the stone with his finger before shrugging. ‘Gave it to me for protection or some shit.’  
  
    Iggy’s lips pulled up at the corner. ‘That’s my girl. I’ll have to thank her later.’  
  
    ‘Fuck what Mandy says, Ig. Marry that fuckin’ girl,’ Mickey laughed.  
  
    ‘Sucks that I won’t get to have you as my best man.’ Iggy sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his palms — a habit he and Mickey shared.  
  
    ‘Mandy can stand in for me,’ Mickey said and Mandy frowned. ‘Make sure you include a lot of jokes about his voodoo phase and how he used to try and cast spells on me, would you?’  
  
    Mandy laughed, wiping her eyes as she stood and joined them. ‘Not sure it’s much of a joke now…’  
  
    Mickey, giving a tight and nervous smile, nodded in agreement. After a few seconds of silence, he said, ’Guess I’d better be goin’, then.’  
  
    Iggy nodded, getting in one last hug that made Mickey laugh wetly before letting him go. Iggy watched as Mandy and Mickey pulled away from his house, waving. As they drove away, he sniffed as the tears started coming again. A hand suddenly popped out of the window to flip him off and he let out a laugh. Of course Mickey wouldn’t leave without doing that one last time.  
  
*  
  
‘So…how are we going to figure out where Yev is?’ Mandy asked once Mickey got back in the car after searching through Kev and V’s house to find it empty.  
  
    Mickey shrugged. ‘Fuck it if I know, but I have to see him before I see Ian.’  
  
    Mandy sighed, pulling away from the curb and driving randomly as they thought. They almost drove past their house, but Mandy pulled over out of nowhere and stopped beside it. They were both silent as they stared at it. No one seemed to be home.  
  
    ‘Pretty sure Yev ain’t here, Mands,’ Mickey mumbled, looking at his hands.  
  
    ‘We should go in,’ Mandy decided suddenly.  
  
    ‘Is it even our’s anymore? Maybe someone’s moved in.’  
  
    Mandy scoffed. ‘To that piece of shit? No way. It’s still ours.’  
  
    Mickey sighed and followed Mandy as she climbed out of the car. He waited behind her as she picked the lock. He didn’t bother to remind her that he could’ve walked through and unlocked it for the both of them. He wanted to procrastinate going into the house for as long as possible. It was way too soon when Mandy finally popped the door open. He huffed and followed her in.  
  
    ‘Shit, suitcases are still here…’ Mickey breathed. ‘Everything’s the same as I left it…What the fuck.’  
  
    Mandy shrugged, kicking at something on the floor. ‘Makes sense. Iggy said he never came back to the place. You were the last person here I guess.’ She eyed the house for a minute before turning to Mickey with a laugh. ‘God, you’re such a fuckin’ slob.’  
  
    ‘Hey, it’s just as bad as it’s always been!’ Mickey argued, eyebrows furrowing.  
  
    ‘Uh, _no_. I remember Ian cleaning out this place.’  
  
    ‘Before replacing it with all the suitcases, you mean?’  
  
    Mickey almost tripped over something. He would’ve fallen if Mandy hadn’t caught him. He glanced down to see Ian’s army jacket there. Slowly, he bent down to pick it up, index finger gliding over the “Gallagher” name tag once more. Without thinking about it, he swung it to rest over his shoulder.  
  
    ‘You got a good enough look yet, skank?’ Mickey asked, sick of being in this fucking place.  
  
    Mandy shrugged. ‘Yeah. Doesn’t really feel the same anymore, does it? Doesn’t feel like home.’  
  
    Mickey scoffed. ‘Did it ever?’  
  
    Mandy’s mouth twitched up at the corner before shrugging. ‘Guess not. Just…I thought it would. Thought it’d feel like home.’  
  
    ‘Mandy, it’s empty. ’Course it doesn’t feel like fuckin’ home.’  
  
    Mandy didn’t even bother asking what he meant by that, because she was pretty sure she got it anyway. She took a deep breath, glancing around her childhood home. The bathroom where she cleaned herself or her brothers up after a beating, and the bedroom where horrific things happened. Mickey was right. This wasn’t fuckin’ home. The only good memories she had of the place was because of her brothers or Ian or even Svetlana. Her home was with people who weren’t even there anymore. She didn’t intend on staying with them once Mickey was gone, though. Sure, she’d see Iggy, but otherwise, she’d just have to make her own home without them.  
  
    Finally getting back into the car, they pulled away from the house and headed down towards where the Alibi was. Mandy jumped in surprise when Mickey barked at her to stop. She pulled over to the side of the road, watching Mickey run across the street and into the Alibi. She frowned, sighing and following him.  
  
    She opened the door to the Alibi, hoping that no one besides Kev, V, and Svetlana would be there. Luckily, besides a few vaguely familiar patrons, they were the only ones there. Not seeing Mickey, she wandered over to the bar and leant against it, waiting for someone to notice her.  
  
    ‘Mandy, what are you doing here?’ Svetlana asked casually, not even seeming surprised.  
  
    ‘Came to see Yevgeny,’ Mandy responded simply. ‘He upstairs?’  
  
    Svetlana nodded, pouring a beer for someone. ‘I take my break now; let the babysitter have break too.’  
  
    She called out to Kev, letting him know. Kev gave Mandy a nod of greeting and she responded in kind before following Svetlana upstairs to see Mickey leaning over Yev, who was sitting on a blanket on the floor with the other babies. There were women around the room pumping breastmilk, but one of the women was reading a magazine and watching the kids.  
  
    ‘Dada Dada da,’ Yev babbled from the floor, staring up at Mickey with large eyes.  
  
    Mandy’s breath caught in her throat when she noticed Mickey’s eyes filling with tears. His son could see him; he could recognise him.  
  
    ‘Thank goodness,’ Svetlana commented. ‘I was worried he would think Kev was father instead of piece of shit ex-husband.’  
  
    ‘You can see me?’ Mickey frowned, looking up at her. ‘Kev and V couldn’t…Plus, these chicks…pumping fuckin’ breastmilk…?’  
  
    Svetlana shrugged. ‘You’re dead, yes?’  
  
    ‘What the fuck?’ Mickey snapped. ‘Seriously, I thought you were fuckin’ weird, but this is topping how weird I _thought_ you were. You’re so fuckin’…calm?’  
  
    Svetlana shrugged. ‘Being Russian is an excuse for everything weird.’  
  
    Mandy and Mickey both shrugged, deciding to not even question anything anymore. Svetlana knelt beside Mickey and placed a hand on his shoulder. Some of the women pumping breastmilk gave her a confused look at touching air, but decided not to bother worrying about it and continued on.  
  
    ‘I am sad you are dead,’ she said.  
  
    ‘Gee, thanks,’ Mickey said sarcastically. ‘Your sincerity warms my fuckin’ heart.’  
  
    ‘Am sad for Yevgeny. He should have father in his life,’ Svetlana clarified. ‘He will have Kev, but you are his father. He will know that. I will make sure.’  
  
    Mickey nodded in thanks. ‘Kev’s a good father. If I had to pick someone…it would definitely be that pony-tailed freak.’  
  
    ‘His hair is short now,’ Mandy corrected.  
  
    Mickey rolled his eyes, which were rapidly turning glassy without his permission. ‘Whatever. Look, I’m going to go soon, so can I have…can I have a minute with him?’  
  
    Mandy and Svetlana nodded and left the room, talking about when Mandy could visit Yev next. Mickey smiled slightly, glad Mandy still intended to see Yev and be a part of his life. He slowly turned back to his kid, waving a hand in front of him. The kid stared with large blue eyes before grabbing a hold of his thumb with his entire little hand. Mickey’s heart glowed a little.  
  
    ‘Hey, little man,’ he said, ‘How’s it goin’?’  
  
    Yev continued to stare, grip on his thumb not letting up.  
  
    ‘You’re kind of a stare-y fucker, you know that?’ Mickey smiled slightly as Yev babbled ‘Dada’ again. ‘Yeah, I’m your Dada. Don’t you fuckin’ forget it.’ Mickey’s smile faltered a little. ‘Listen, I’m not going to be around anymore after this. I get that this means nothing to you since you are a fuckin’ toddler.’  
  
    Mickey huffed out a shaky breath, sitting cross-legged and pulling Yev onto his lap. The women around the room were fuckin’ oblivious to the floating kid, just on their phones or reading their magazines.  
  
    ‘Anyway, I’m going soon. I won’t get to be part of your life, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, Yev. I mean, at first I really didn’t…but I did want to by the end, and I’m so sorry I’m not going to be. Kev and V are good people, though, and your mom loves you a whole fuckin’ lot. I should know; I was the one she threatened to get some money for you.’ He tickled Yev’s stomach, making the kid let out some giggles. ‘Yeah, you’ll be okay…I just wanted you to know I love you, bud. I know you’ll probably forget me, but I’ll never forget you. I’m gonna try and come check up on you if I can.’  
  
    Mandy and Svetlana re-entered the room. Mickey quickly gave Yev a quick kiss to the forehead before handing him off to Svetlana. Yev gurgled in Svet’s arms, pointing at Mickey and repeating, ‘Dada, dada.’  
  
    Svetlana smiled. ‘Yes, that is Dada.’  
  
    ‘Mick, we should get going,’ Mandy reminded him gently.  
  
    Mickey reluctantly nodded, brushing a hand over Yev’s head before giving him another kiss. He looked up to Svet and said quietly, ‘Take care of him?’  
  
    Svetlana, giving him a kiss on the cheek, nodded. ‘I will.’  
  
    As Mickey finally pulled away, following Mandy out the door, he heard Svetlana say, ‘Say bye-bye to Dada.’ She grabbed a hold of Yev’s tiny hand, making him wave his fist. ‘Bye, bye, Dada.’  
  
    Mickey gave her a small smile before heading back downstairs. He glanced at Kev and V as he passed. V looked up for a moment, catching his eye. Her eyes widened, but then she blinked and looked confused. Mickey couldn’t even process that she probably just saw a flash of him, he was too busy missing his kid already. His kid who he wouldn’t get to see grow up. At least he knew Yev was in good hands.  
  
*  
  
Back in the car, heading off to try and find Ian, Mandy sat silently for a second, knowing these were probably the last few minutes she had with her big brother.  
  
    ‘How did you know Yev was there?’ Mandy asked in a small voice, keeping her eyes ahead.  
  
    Mickey was staring out the window as he responded in a croaky voice. ‘I could hear him cryin’.’  
  
    Mandy let out a sob without meaning to. When Mickey glanced at her with wide eyes, she scowled. ‘Fuck off. Your story really tugs at the fuckin’ heartstrings, okay? You asshole.’  
  
    Mickey laughed a little, wiping the tears away from his eyes yet again. ‘Yeah, a real goddamn Lifetime movie.’  
  
    Mandy was silent for a moment before asking, ‘Do you know where Ian is?’  
  
    Mickey shrugged. ‘Didn’t know where Yev was until we got close enough. We probably should just drive around until we get close. He might be at his boyfriend’s; try there first.’  
  
    Mickey directed Mandy to Caleb’s. They sat outside for a minute in silence, staring up at the place.  
  
    Finally, Mandy broke. ‘Is he here or not, asshole?’  
  
    Mickey shook his head. ‘No, but I think you should drop me off here.’  
  
    Mandy’s whole body turned icy. ‘What? No, no fuckin’ way. I’m here until you find Ian. I might even come with you to see him.’  
  
    The last thing Mandy expected was for Mickey to pretty much leap across the car to hug her, but he did. Without thinking about it, she hugged back just as tightly. God, she would miss her fucking brother. Before, when she left, she knew she could always come back to see him, but now he was going forever and she knew that. She knew this was the absolute end.  
  
    Out of nowhere, the first thing she thought of was the first time Terry hit her when she was seven. He had stormed out right after slapping her across the face. Their mom wasn’t home, so Mickey had just given her a quick hug, before telling her that he wouldn’t let that happen again. He wasn’t able to keep his promise, he was only nine after all, but the promise still meant so much, because then her brother did everything he could to protect her. Even if it was chasing down some idiot redhead for her. She loved Mickey with everything she had and was always going to be grateful for her brother, no matter how much of an moron he could be sometimes.  
  
    ‘Leave me here, Mands,’ he whispered. ‘This is where it ends. C’mon, you know it. Just let it fuckin’ happen.’  
  
    Mandy shook her head desperately, gripping on tighter. ‘No. Please don’t go. Can’t you just stay?’  
  
    ‘And haunt your ass for the rest of my life?’ Mickey laughed. ‘No fuckin’ way. Eventually you’re going to want to bang someone, and I ain’t being stuck with you and seein’ that.’  
  
    ‘Call it karma for the amount of shit I’ve heard coming from your room.’ Mandy laughed too, finally pulling away.  
  
    Mickey gave her a soft smile, brushing her hair away from her face. ‘I do like the stupid fuckin’ hair.’  
  
    Mandy sniffed, returning the smile. ‘Thanks.’  
  
    Her brother then fully pulled away, turning to unlock the door. He slid out of his seat, facing Mandy again. ‘Stay happy, douchebag.’  
  
    ‘I’ll miss you, assface.’ She laughed, tears prickling her eyes again.  
  
    Slowly and painfully, he shut the door behind him. They gave each other a nod before she pulled away from the curb, driving off. She eyed Mickey in the rearview mirror as he stared after her. When he disappeared from view, she pulled over and allowed herself to break down, heart aching and sobs racking her chest. After a few minutes, she collected herself and pulled away from the curb, heading out of Chicago.  
  
    She didn’t know where she was going, but she hoped wherever it was, she was going to be happy.  
  
    Finally.  
  
*  
  
It was night by the time he found him. He was standing in front of the Fairy Tail and staring after an ambulance that had just driven by. Mickey gulped, scanning him from head to toe. He reminded him so much of when he was younger. Red hair, freckles, green coat over his usual blue plaid button-down and black shirt, blue jeans, and brown boots. He could’ve sworn a fifteen year old Ian Gallagher had worn that exact outfit before. Rubbing his thumb against his lip nervously, he approached him.  
  
    All through his mind, he could only hear was: _‘Hey, Mands. I just was passing downtown and…I think I saw Mickey’s twin? Crazy, huh?’_  
  
    He was closer now, almost across the road. Ian looked dejected, staring down the opposite road to Mickey as he thought.  
  
     _‘I…I don’t know why I’m calling you about this…you don’t care if I saw some guy who looked like Mickey. Uh…yeah. Unless you have something to tell me? Nah, that’s ridiculous.’_  
  
    He crossed the road, almost at Ian and was panicked as he tried to figure out how to put this, what to say. He gulped as he reached the same sidewalk Ian was standing on.  
  
     _‘Sorry for this random voicemail, Mands. Don’t worry, not off my meds, just…Sorry. Shit. I’m—yeah. Bye.’_  
  
   _‘Holy shit,’_ he could hear Mandy breathe in his ear. _‘It’s Ian.’_  
  
    ‘It sure fuckin’ is,’ he muttered to himself as he approached Ian from behind.  
  
    He paused as he was finally standing directly behind him. For one, terrifying moment, he worried Ian wouldn’t be able to see him. Mickey took a deep breath before tapping Ian’s shoulder. Ian turned around in surprise.  
  
    Ian didn’t speak for a moment, mouth gaping. After a few seconds, he breathed out, ‘Mick?’  
  
    Mickey gave a dorky kind of half-smile. Even though he was still pissed, he couldn’t help but smile at that dumbass, doe-eyed look. ‘Aye, Gallagher.’  
  
*  
  
Ian was shocked. He had no idea what to say. Mickey was here. _Mickey Milkovich_ was here. He was out of jail. That must’ve been him he saw on the balcony, and Mandy must’ve told him about the voicemail Ian left. Ian had no idea what to do. Cry, laugh, hug him? He looked so good. Not as tired and defeated as last time that he saw him. Shit, after the way he acted at the prison, he had no idea why Mickey had agreed to see him. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he had just seen him randomly and decided to come say hi anyway.  
  
    ‘Holy shit, you’re out?’ was all Ian could manage.  
  
    Mickey hesitated for a moment before nodding. ‘Yeah…I, uh, I got out a few weeks ago…’  
  
    ‘Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t Mandy when I saw her?’ Ian asked, confused. He figured Mandy at least would’ve told him.  
  
    Mickey shrugged. ‘Dunno why she does the shit she does or doesn’t do, man.’ Something seemed to occur to Mickey and he blurted out, ‘Shouldn’t you be at work right now?’  
  
    Ian frowned for a minute before realising Mickey probably thought he worked at the diner still. ‘I don’t know if Mandy told you, but I don’t work at the diner anymore. I, uh, I’m actually an EMT.’  
  
    Mickey smiled, making Ian quickly lose his breath. Holy shit, how long had it been since he had last seen that smile? ‘That’s great, Ian. I’m happy for you.’  
  
    ‘Well, actually, I used to be—I mean…I got fired.’  
  
    ‘What?’ Mickey snapped. ‘Why the fuck they’d fire you for?’  
  
    ‘Bipolar. I lied on my form about my mental health and they found out about it.’ Ian hesitated before admitting, ‘I’m actually looking for a job right now.’  
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows arched. ‘At this shit-hole again?’  
  
    Ian shook his head. ‘Nah, I decided it’s not me anymore. Left.’  
  
    ‘You should fuckin’ fight that shit about firing you, Gallagher. It’s bullshit,’ Mickey argued. ‘Caleb’s an asshole, but he’s right. None of their business as long as you’re on your meds.’  
  
    Ian’s body tensed when Mickey said Caleb’s name. ‘You, uh…You know about Caleb?’  
  
    Mickey’s eyes widened before he said, ‘Uh, Mandy told me a lot.’  
  
    Ian nodded slowly, feeling a bit guilty for some reason he couldn’t figure out. He should be allowed to date anyone he wanted; they were broken up. ‘I—’  
  
    ‘It’s gettin’ late,’ Mickey suddenly blurted, looking surprised at his own words. ‘You should go fuckin’…argue your case now.’  
  
    ‘But Mick, you just showed back up,’ Ian argued, suddenly wanting to hang out with Mickey. He wanted to know what prison was like, how he was…he just wanted to be around him a while longer. ‘We should hang out.’  
  
    Mickey bit his lip before saying. ‘You wanna meet at the dugouts tomorrow morning? We can hang out for a while.’  
  
    Ian knew it was Fiona’s wedding day, but he figured that didn’t start until two in the afternoon. If he stayed at home instead of at Caleb’s tonight, he would be able to get to the dugouts to spend time with Mickey before going back to Caleb’s and going to the wedding with time to spare.  
  
    ‘Sure, Mick…Uh…is nine too early for you?’ he asked.  
  
    Mickey shook his head. ‘Nah, man. Nine’s fine. See you then.’  
  
    Mickey then turned around, walking off down the road. Ian stared after him for a moment before turning in the other direction to go to the station. He was going to get his fucking job back.  
  
*  
  
That night, Ian had a hard time sleeping. He just had random sentences going through his head. He knew Mickey must’ve said them at some point, since they were in his voice, but he just couldn’t place them. They didn’t match most of their relationship.  
  
_‘Just a couple of grown ups, huh, Gallagher?’_  
  
_‘Fuckin’ over-compensating.’_  
  
_‘Guess keeping things to yourself is your M.O.’_  
  
_‘Jesus Christ, that’s forward.’_  
  
_‘Ian, please. Let me go.’_  
  
    He didn’t know when Mickey said them. He couldn’t figure it out. After a few hours of going through these sentences, he slipped into sleep.  
  
*  
  
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a familiar field. He scanned the perimeter and could see Monica’s caravans in the distance. Realising where he was, he ran and ran and ran until he reached a figure sitting in the grass. Only it wasn’t him, it was Mickey, but there was another figure sitting next to him. For a strange second, it was like looking at someone you’ve seen before but you don’t know where, until he realised it was himself…just a few years ago.  
  
    Mickey nodded in response to something younger Ian had said. ‘Yeah. Uh, I give it about fifteen hours, maybe, until you break up with me?’  
  
    ‘Shit,’ Ian breathed as younger Ian said, ‘Tell me what we get. What good stuff do we get?’  
  
    Ian joined them on the ground as Mickey responded, ‘A good few months. A really fuckin’ good few months. Best months of my life, actually.’  
  
    Ian’s eyes prickled and he forced himself not to cry. They were probably the happiest months of his life too, and not just because he was manic at the time. He was so happy to have Mickey fully. A Mickey who was out and not afraid to love him.  
  
    ‘Maybe after we break up, we sort out whatever shit is happening and we can get back together?’ Younger Ian suggested hopefully. ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as what happened with…’  
  
    They all seemed to realise what he was referencing and Ian gulped, a tear falling down his face. He had no idea what this was, but it was heartbreaking.  
  
    ‘Don’t worry, man. It’ll all be funny one day. It’ll all be some stupid, distant memory of your first, closeted boyfriend.’  
  
    Ian got as angry then as Younger Ian seemed to be, until— ‘ _…when my closeted boyfriend had to marry this pregnant hooker that he was forced to fuck at gunpoint_ ’ He remembered laughing after and it hit him. Mickey knew. Mickey fucking knew what Ian had said. How Ian and Caleb had fucking _laughed_ at the worst day of their lives.  
  
    Ian rested his head in his hands, sobbing slightly at how ashamed he felt. He couldn’t believe he had done that and didn’t even remember it until now.  
  
    ‘It won’t ever be _funny_ ,’ Younger Ian snapped. ‘You won’t ever just be my closeted boyfriend, Mick. I can’t fuckin’ believe that we’re finally boyfriends and I break up with you…After all that shit…I’ve been waiting so long. I’m so fucking stupid.’  
  
    Ian wanted to tell his younger self that he was fucking stupid. He looked at his younger self and felt so goddamned sad. The kid looked so full of hope. He looked in love. Ian covered his mouth with his hand as he tried to hold in the sobs that were clawing their way out of his chest.  
  
    Mickey shook his head. ‘You’re not stupid. You had a lot of shit going on and it just made sense to you at the time. Trust me, Ian, you’ll want to break up with me one day. It’ll be fine, though. I’ll be fine; you’ll be fine.’  
  
    Ian wanted to scream about how he wasn’t fine, how they weren’t _fine_! He didn’t, though, he wanted to hear what they both had to say. He felt like he owed so much to both of them, even if one was himself. Younger Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand and Ian felt an ache in his chest at how much he wanted to do that himself.  
  
    ‘Is it better in the future? Are we happy even though we’re broken up?’  
  
    ‘Yeah,’ Mickey whispered. ‘Of course we are.’  
  
    Ian couldn’t believe how Mickey could lie so easily. Or maybe Mickey was happy, maybe he was better off without Ian. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to either.  
  
    ‘Then we can get back together. Clearly we just needed shit to sort out. Mick, I never want to leave you again. The army is shit; I want to come home.’  
  
    Younger Ian’s voice is small. Ian pushed his head into his hands, breath coming shallowly as he began to let out harsher sobs. It was like a panic attack without the panic. It was just a pure attack of despair on him that he himself was causing.  
  
    ‘You’ll come home. We’ll be together for a while, and it’ll be good, and then we will break up. It’s fine, Ian.’ Mickey was trying to soothe Younger Ian. It reminded Ian of when he was practically catatonic in bed and he let Mickey hold him, rocking him back and forth slightly as he cried.  
  
    ‘Promise me you’ll try,’ Younger Ian begged. ‘Promise that once you get back to whatever time you’re from that you’ll try to fix things. That you’ll try to get us back together.’ Mickey was silent, so Younger Ian continued, ‘Mickey, promise me you’ll try, because I don’t want to not be with you.’  
      
    ‘Yeah, Ian. I’ll try.’  
  
    ‘Mick,’ Younger Ian whispered, leaning forward. ‘I love you.’  
  
    Ian lifted his head out of his hands, staring at Younger Ian in shock. He hadn’t ever gotten to say that, but it sounded so right.  
  
    Mickey shut his eyes and Ian gasped as he finally let some tears roll down his cheeks. ‘I love you, too, Ian.’  
  
    Their lips touched once, and then Ian jumped up in bed, finally awake.  
  
*  
  
Mickey bit his lip, already nervous. He had slept in the dugouts last night, wrapped up in Ian’s old army jacket that he still hadn’t taken off, still in shock that he could sleep now. He had worried that he would slip away before he had a chance to talk to Ian again, but he had woken up when the sun started to rise. Now it was almost time, Mickey didn’t have a watch, but he could just feel it, and he was nervous as fuck.  
  
    He was sitting on the field, thinking about how nervous he was, when he heard someone shout, ‘Milkovich! You’ve got some explaining to do!’  
  
    Mickey frowned, turning to face Ian as he made his way into the dugouts and towards Mickey. ‘What the fuck are you on about, Gallagher?’  
  
    Ian didn’t answer until he slumped down on the field beside Mickey. He barely seemed to register that Mickey was wearing his jacket. He seemed to be readying himself for something as he looked Mickey in the eye. ‘I didn’t tell Mandy that Caleb said my mental illness wasn’t the company’s business. Mandy didn’t know that.’  
  
    Mickey froze, wishing he didn’t have to explain this now. He wanted to have a conversation first, without the whole ghost thing hanging over their heads, but now Ian knew. He bit his lip nervously, not wanting to answer.  
  
    ‘So how did you?’ Ian finally asked, green eyes boring into blue. When Mickey still didn’t answer, Ian pressed, ‘Mickey, how did you know that?’  
  
    Mickey barely knew how to say it. He wanted to do it gently, but it managed to just come out like, ‘I’m dead, Ian.’  
  
    Ian laughed incredulously, a lot like when Mickey told him to pack his shit, but then reacted the same way. Widened eyes and a scared, ‘What?’  
  
    ‘I’m dead,’ Mickey repeated. ‘I died in prison…a few months ago. I’ve been following you around since.’  
  
    Ian let out another gasping, wet laugh. ‘I can’t believe this shit. I take my meds, and I still get fuckin’ hallucinations.’  
  
    ‘Ian, I’m not a hallucination,’ Mickey quickly assured him, worrying that he would think his meds weren’t working. ‘I’m not. Fuckin’ ask Mandy or Svet, they’ll tell you I’m real. And I’m telling you the truth.’  
  
    Ian sniffed, lifting his head to look at Mickey with wet eyes. ‘So you’ve seen everything, then? I fuckin’ knew it. Shit, I’m sorry.’  
  
    Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘How the fuck did _you_ know?’  
  
    Ian gave him a look as if it was obvious, which—no it’s fuckin’ not. ‘You made me a promise that we’d get back together when you came back here?’  
  
    Mickey’s eyes widened. ‘Holy fuck.’  
  
    ‘Yeah, some weird shit is happening.’ Ian let out a slightly hysterical laugh that quickly turned into sobbing. ‘I’m so sorry, Mick. I’m so sorry.’  
  
    ‘Shit,’ Mickey pretty much gasped, not knowing how to respond to this. He didn’t know why he didn’t expect this reaction, but he just didn’t.  
  
    Before he knew it, Ian was hugging him and crying. Mickey froze up, not returning the hug out of shock. After a few seconds, he rubbed his back gently that was shaking with the force of Ian’s sobs and cries of apologies.  
  
    ‘It’s okay, Ian,’ Mickey murmured. ‘It’s alright.’  
  
    Ian continued sobbing, feeling Mickey’s hand rubbing his back was making him worse. He was so relieved to finally touch Mickey again, but he knew it was all going to go away soon. After a few minutes, he finally calmed down and removed himself from Mickey, whose eyes were also a little glassy.  
  
    ‘How do I fix this?’ Ian sniffed, rubbing at his eyes. ‘I want to help you, Mick.’  
  
    Before he said anything, Mickey cupped Ian’s cheek and brought his forehead forward to touch his own. He took a deep breath, the sun shining through his closed eyelids and showing him the light. ‘You’ve got to let me go, Ian.’  
  
    Ian breathed in a shaky breath, shaking his head slightly. ‘I don’t know if I can do that.’  
  
    Mickey grabbed onto the gemstone necklace, rubbing at it with his thumb. Slowly, he pulled away and took it off, sliding it over Ian’s head so it rested around his neck, against his chest.  
  
    ‘What is this?’ Ian asked, touching it.  
  
    ‘It’s a gemstone that Iggy’s girl gave me. It’s for protection and peace and…love. And I want you to have it.’  
  
    ‘Mick, don’t you need it?’  
  
    Mickey shook his head. ‘Nah, man. I’ll be fine.’  
  
    Ian’s heart warmed slightly at the fact that Mickey was still putting Ian first. Once again realising that this was all going to go soon, he breathed out, ‘How do I do this?’  
  
    For a moment, Mickey didn’t really know himself, but then he remembered what Giovanna had mentioned once. She said Ian needed closure. Ian had regrets that he needed to solve.  
  
    ‘What do you want to say to me, Ian?’ Mickey asked.  
  
    Ian’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Huh?’  
  
    ‘What do you want to say that you never got a chance to? Tell me now,’ Mickey said gently. ‘Tell me everything you want to, anything you want to. Then you can let go.’  
  
    ‘Okay…I want to tell you…’ Ian sniffed before continuing, ‘I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I want to tell you that you taking the gun from Kash is the best thing that ever happened to me, or ever could happen to me. I want to tell you that I forgive you for everything — calling me a “warm mouth”, beating me up, marrying someone else. I know that last one really wasn’t your fault. I want you to know that I wish I’d been nicer when I came back. I wish I hadn’t pushed you into coming out, but I wouldn’t give up the time we had after that for anything in the world. I want you to know that what happened to you wasn’t funny and I’m sorry for what I said.’  
  
    Mickey’s breath caught at that one as he tried not to start crying again, staring into Ian’s sincere green eyes.  
  
    ‘I want you to know that I _do_ want to marry you, Mick,’ he whispered and Mickey’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I want us to get married and spend the rest of our lives together. I want to take care of Yev with you and Svet, I want to laugh with you when he’s a teenager, and I want to hold your hand and kiss you when you die of old, old age in the home we built together. Well, ideally, I’d die first, but…I want you to know…I want you to know that I love you. _I love you_. And nothing will ever be the same when you’re gone.’  
  
    ‘Gallagher,’ Mickey whispered, bringing their heads back in and resting their foreheads together again. He shut his eyes. ‘You can still do that. You can still take care of Yev and get married and grow old with someone you love, but it won’t be me.’  
  
    Choked up, Ian breathed out, ‘Mick, no—’  
  
    ‘Shh,’ Mickey soothed him, cupping his cheek and rubbing a thumb against it softly. ‘But there’s one thing you can still do with me. You can still hold my hand…and you can still kiss me when I die.’ Mickey slipped his hand into Ian’s and held on tight. ‘And I want _you_ to know that you can still be what you want to be. Your disorder is a disorder, Ian. It’s not the be all, end all. You have a second chance. I remember the dopey fifteen year old that I first met properly, and you’re the same guy. You’re still warm and loving and funny and _such a fucking dork_. And I love you. I love you so much. You’re literally the love of my life, man.’  
  
    Ian let out a sob and somehow pressed even closer. ‘I love you, Mickey. I don’t want to let go.’  
  
    ‘Ian, you have to. Do this one last thing for me. Please.’  
  
    Ian took a deep breath, trying not to fall to pieces. He could do this. He could do this for Mickey. He owed him at least this. ‘Okay, Mick. You do know I love you, right?’  
  
    Mickey laughed softly. ‘Yeah, Ian, I know. I love you too.’  
  
    ‘Okay.’  
  
    ‘Now kiss me.’  
  
    ‘Goodbye, Mick.’  
  
    ‘Kiss me, Ian.’  
  
    Ian leant forward and kissed Mickey. It was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but he did it. He felt Mickey’s soft lips part under his, pulling him in. Wave after wave of emotion fell over Ian. He was sad, he was scared, but he was in love. God, was he in love. And now he had to let go. After all he’d fought for, he had to let go. He didn’t want to. Man, was he fucking terrified to do it, but he let go.  
  
    When he parted from Mickey, pulling away, he didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew what he’d see in front of him. After a few seconds of silence, he dared to open his eyes and let out a shaky breath that quickly turned into a sob.  
  
    Mickey was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of this story! I'm thinking of adding a part about Ian after Mickey's gone (like a few years later) let me know if you think I should do that! 
> 
> But anyway, thank you for joining me in this painful exploration of what would happen if Mickey witnessed (most) of s666. Also, thank you if you stayed with me through my anger and sadness and mood swings and complete change of plot. Tbh I prefer this to the original plan anyway! 
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with the start of this chapter, but the end I'm happy with! Please let me know what you think :) 
> 
> This is probably the saddest ending any of my fics will be, I can't stand this!! If anyone's interested while reading this chapter I was listening to Medicine by Daughter and Stay by Kristina Cox the entire time and I'm sobbing :)

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a complete reflection on how I feel about what happened (clearly some of it is), but mostly it's how I think Mickey would feel. If you think Mickey would've felt differently, please comment and say how you think he would've reacted to things!! I'm interested to know, hence why I wrote this!


End file.
